The Founding
by TheArtist667
Summary: The ceremony. The most terrifying event of all of Clary Morgenstern's life. All around her, people are robots, shoving pills down their throats, possessing themselves. She was different, but not in the best way possible. She'd seen much, had many things brought upon her, but she never suspected. Until now. Until she found the Wanderers. The people who were different. CLACE
1. The Wanderers

_~Prologue~_

"Welcome, one, welcome all!" The woman at the front clapped her hands and I tensed, my back straightening as her icy blue eyes stared cold heartedly directly into my bright green ones. "Today is the happiest day of your lives, as you will be united with the one you will love for the rest of your days. Now look over at the opposing side of you, try to see if anyone matches the image in your head and immediately walk over to them."

Today is The Founding, the day that is supposedly the most joyful of all days. It does, after all, only happen once a year, to each lady and gentleman at the age of seventeen.

My name is Clarissa Fray. I don't have the image of anyone's face in my mind.

Was this why my mother called me her special little girl? I was so different than everyone else at The Academy. Girls my age would always straighten their backs into steel and walk forward in sync, their earpieces blinking a bright blue. I would walk with my shoulders slumped, my mother as my teacher trying so hard to blend in. I would stumble forward in line, tripping over the poofy long dresses we wore and the book on my head would always fall off, landing on my feet with a thump.

Everyone, in sync, like we were trained to do, turned and walked robotically toward the center.

All except me.

My heart pounded. What was everyone doing? Why did they start suddenly stripping their clothes, throwing them to the ground? My eyes widened as a few started kissing.

I had to look away from the horror of humans and I made eye contact with the woman.

The woman at the front zoomed in on me, her earpiece going wild and beeping. "Attack them! Attack them both! They're different! They don't fit in! _Attack!_" she screamed and I looked around to see who else was different.

There was a boy with golden hair pushing through the crowd screaming at me to run with him. He was still wearing clothing.

Everyone, in one motion, stomped their way towards me, ignoring the wandering boy.

I stumbled over my long pink dress, struggling to jump chairs since the middle was taken over by humans attempting to get me.

I broke through the doors, tears streaming down my face as the boy next to me grasped my hand. "Jace Herondale. Lovely to meet you! Now, _run!" _

_~Chapter 1: The Wanderers~_

"Where are they?" I panted. "Where are all the people at?"

Jace looked at me with wide eyes. "Those aren't people. They're not humans. We're the humans. Humans have emotions. They have _nothing. _They're _things_."

"They look like us," I argued. "They talk like us. _We're the different ones. _They're completely _normal._"

Jace shook his head, looking off into the distance. "My father used to tell me a story. He wasn't a city boy; he lived in the mountains, so far high nobody knew where to find him. They'd thought he'd died.

"When my mother had me, they began running out of food so my father went to the city. He looked around. It wasn't called Wal-Mart anymore, it was called _Items to Buy_, and people were milling around, they're backs straight. Do you know what was in that store? Pills and injections. All people eat now are pills. There are food pills, the ones that fill you up. There were drink pills, the ones that quenched all thirst. Everything was _a pill_.

"So my father made a theory when he saw children walking in a direct line, not speaking a word, walking like robots. The pills and injections had some type of mind controlling thing in it. So let me ask you one thing Little Girl. Did you eat your pills?"

"No," I whispered. "My mother told me to never eat them. My father, Luke Garroway would kill things and strike flint against stone to cook them. We would store the leftovers in a pot and bury them underground."

His fingers came up and I tensed, not knowing what to expect, but he just swiped some leaves from my unruly red hair.

I heard the pounding of feet and I whirled around to see Jace bolting towards the fence at the end of the woods - the _electric_ fence.

He rolled under the fence with grace and I began stumbling towards him, tripping over fallen tree branches and roots.

A hand grasped the back of my shirt and I saw a boy, so innocent looking, with hazel eyes and long black hair. I couldn't hurt him. His eyes were just so wide and beautiful and innocent.

An arrow was suddenly in his side and he dropped. I screamed in horror as blood started dripping out of his mouth, his fingers twitching.

I saw a mob of people, no more than two hundred yards behind me and took off running. I got to the electric fence and actually jumped over it, using a fallen tree.

Moment of truth came and I fell flat onto my face.

Jace chuckled, picking me up and I winced, clutching my ankle.

"Did you shoot that poor boy?" I asked as he scooped me up, walking casually as humans walked into the sparking electric fence.

"Nope," he said lightly. "Alec did."

Said person fell from the tree, dropping into a graceful position and smiling. "Hi, I'm Alec."

A girl came out from the trees, something golden wrapping around her wrist: a whip. "Yeah, I think she got that. I'm Isabelle by the way. You are?"

I squirmed closer to Jace's chest, unease coming over me in a wave. What were they?

"It's all right, Little Girl," Jace said soothingly saying the name so naturally. "These are my friends. They were naughty too, and didn't take their pills. Guess they'll be getting coal for Christmas."

"I'm Clarissa Morgenstern," I whispered quietly before feeling wind whizz by me until my breath was knocked out. I looked at Jace with wide eyes.

He had a knife out, Isabelle's whip was uncoiled, and Alec had his bow pointed directly at my heart.

"What did I say?" I asked, my heart racing as I looked at the trio. "What'd I do?"

"Daughter of a little –." Jace began.

My hands flew to my face, expecting a slap, a kick, or something. Just like Daddy used to do whenever he swore. "No!" I cried, backing away. "Don't make it hurt this time, please…please."

"Put your weapons up," said a voice, a woman's voice that I knew so well. She used to sing me to sleep, sooth me whenever I cried. "That's my daughter you've got your knife pointed at Jace Herondale. Don't let it happen again."

I felt cool hands touch my face and gently pull my hands down. "Clary, it's all right. He wasn't really going to hurt you. He's scared of your father too. He just didn't want someone to hurt his siblings. It's all right."

I opened my squinted eyes, and my mother pulled me in for a hug.

"You three," she said, her voice very serious. "I want a talk with you in my office. I'll get Maia to take her to the infirmary." My mother let out a long, loud whistle, and a pretty, young girl with mocha colored skin a thousand braids running through her hair. I looked at my mother incredulous, not that this girl didn't seem rude or stuck up, but for the fact that she had run in due to a single whistle blow.

"You called, Mrs.?" Maia asked, her brown eyes looking over me with curiosity.

"It's Jocelyn," my mother said kindly. "And yes, I did. Can you take my daughter, Clarissa, to the infirmary, please? She has a sprained ankle."

Maia scooped me up – for a tiny girl, she had a lot of muscle built up. Everyone seemed to.

"Come on," Maia said. "I want to get back to my training lessons. We're learning how to break backs!"

I looked over Maia's shoulder in shock. Jace was smirking at me. _Get used to it, I suppose, _my brain told me. _This seems to be a very gruesome place._

~_**Jace**_

I watched the two girls fade away towards the camp. Clary was beautiful and looked like a childish version of her mother, so innocent.

She was in some sort of stage of shock, I could tell by her not being afraid. Most people were frightened by the knife that I would whip out, would cower in fear at Alec whenever he killed the Addicted.

Either that or Clary was brave and innocent.

Now that would be _hot. _

I trailed behind the rest of the group, in my own thoughts. Isabelle and Alec were whispering quietly in front of me and Jocelyn walked with her head up, her posture straightened, many years of teaching her daughter how to act like the Addicted catching up to her.

We walked inside her cabin, a fire getting rid of the harsh winter that was outside.

I pulled off my coat – I didn't like gloves or hats – and followed Jocelyn into the very back room.

She slumped down into her chair while we siblings sat on the bench in front of the desk.

"You judged her by her name, Jace," Jocelyn said. "She doesn't know what that name means."

"Why didn't you tell her while you had the chance?" Isabelle asked suddenly, sitting up, a crease coming in between her eyes.

Jocelyn slowly ran her fingers through her graying hair, sighing reluctantly. Being the leader of The Wanderers wasn't easy. We were a hard working group; trying so hard to always get along, fight for our common goal. "She was my spy without knowing it. I couldn't train her in front of her father, and I definitely couldn't tell her all the horrendous things he had done."

Everyone knew why Jocelyn married Valentine Morgenstern. Once upon a time, she loved him. He was kind with stunning gray eyes and short blonde hair. Up until the age of twenty-one. She'd already had both of her children and couldn't control her son from becoming one of the Addicted. She got Clary just in time. She'd made fake pills. Pills that had no chemicals inside them, but actual food. Jocelyn was a smart woman, and independent at that.

Eventually, Jocelyn had gotten Clary away from years of abuse and torture whenever Valentine had staged his death.

We'd detected him since them. He's still alive.

"Why not?" Alec slammed his fist down on the table, rattling it. "She was tortured for seven years of her life, what about the other eight? She was so confused for her entire life! Jace saw her face, her wide green eyes whenever she turned her head and saw-."

"Alec," I said. "Stop. Look, all that matters is she's fine now. Got it? Good."

"This isn't even why you came in here!" Jocelyn finally shouted over us. "I came in her to tell you all not to judge her because she has absolutely no idea what the heck is going on. Therefore, Jace _Herondale_ don't you dare judge her by her name."

I flinched backwards, my face in shock. "It wasn't my fault for what my father did! I had nothing to do with it."

"And it isn't her fault for what her father did, either is it?" Jocelyn asked, her words cutting deep inside me, making waves of emotions crash onto me.

I stomped out of the room looking back to see Jocelyn staring at me with sad eyes that held so much pity.

I didn't want her pity.

~_**Clary**_~

Maia put some kind of cream on my leg, soothing it before she started doing the actual treatment. I hissed in pain when she squeezed it.

"So you're the infamous Clarissa Morgenstern huh?" she asked and I smiled softly.

"I suppose. I've never even heard of this place," I said quietly.

"Oh," Maia said, her fingers rubbing and squeezing my injured ankle. "Your mother never told you, I assume. We're the Wanderers. We're called that because we're different than everyone else. We have souls.

"It started off with Jace Herondale, he was twelve. Your mother found him freezing on the side of the street and quickly ushered him inside. If anyone found him, he'd be dead.

"Then there was the Lightwoods, their mother had been turned into the Addicted. They forced pills down her throat. She's the speaker at the Founding Ceremony now.

"Then Luke Garroway. Him and your mother were close friends when they were little, but grew apart whenever she married Valentine. After Valentine staged his death, they came up with a plan to find all the Wanderers they could. So they found me.

"Jace found me, actually, him and you, although I suppose you don't remember. Your substitute teacher made you swallow the lunch pills. Your mother told him to help you walk it off. He had a crush on you, so of course he did it. The pills had a different effect on you than it did for most. It made you delirious. You swatted at me in the woods and called me a bad puppy. So Jace found you and pulled you away, examining me with close eyes. He had called me a Wanderer and told me to follow him."

Maia had stopped her wrapping, going back into memory. She shook her head and resumed wrapping, minding her own mind now, remaining quiet until she ushered me off with a pair of crutches.

I sat down on a bench, my breath becoming foggy in the bitter winter air.

I tried wrapping my coat tighter around me before I remembered that I didn't have one.

"Here," a melodic voice said, and wrapped a coat tight around my shoulders. I looked back to see Jace and he smiled at me, sitting down. He was only wearing a long sleeved shirt.

"What about you?" I asked quietly, listening to the sound of crunching of boots.

He waved a hand. "I'll be fine. But you are a lady, and a gentleman always gives a coat to a cold lady."

I smiled softly. "But you're going to get cold. Here."

I opened the coat up and snuggled closer to Jace, feeling his body heat give off like waves. He looked at me in surprise and I kissed his cheek.

Was he blushing?

"Thank you," I said softly, "Even though you pointed a knife at me."

"You're forgiving, aren't you?" he teased.

I looked down at my hands, picking at a cuticle on my finger. "I've never been around a _real_ human before. Well, I suppose my mother, but never somebody my age. Always robot things."

He wrapped a warm arm around her shoulder, pulling her close in. She breathed in his scent, manly, but with a distinct scent of outdoors.

"Maia told me we've met before. Whenever you found her," I said, feeling curiosity blooming inside me.

He smiled softly. "Yeah, we have. You were a sight to see." He winked at me. "You kept on calling me the sun and then Golden Man, then Golden Angel, and finally Golden Sun Angel."

I laughed. "And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why you don't take pills."

"Your substitute gave you happy pills. Your mother had to keep you at home for weeks to keep from eating more pills. That's why we call them the Addicted. Once you have them once, you can't stop. They're in your bloodstream."

"Find another girl, Herondale?" A stuck up voice asked. "You know, after me. And Ashleigh and Kennedy, and Annabelle. She's uglier than you usually go for."

My head whipped up to see a girl with blonde hair and brown eyes, her hair a natural pretty curls, like a princess. She had a smile that should've been awarded with actress of the year award.

Jace sighed, scooting away and the coat fell from him. He rubbed at his temples. "What do you want Meadow?"

"I just want to warn Ugly," Meadow said, flipping her hair over shoulder. "He's a heartbreaker. So how easy are you?"

When I stood up, anger coursed through my veins.

"Clary," Jace murmured, trying to warn me of this girl. "Don't."

The coat fell from my shoulders and the bitter wind hit my arms again, but I didn't notice. Meadow had a smirk across her face, knowing she angered me.

"My name is _Clary_. Not _Ugly_. Is that to close to make out? Are you really that stupid?" I asked, cracking my knuckles, the way my father used to right before he hit me. I'd learned why. It loosened your fingers and intimidated the victim.

Meadow wasn't intimidated. "You're new here, huh? You'll learn from your mistakes. And you'll _never_ talk to me like that again." She stomped away in anger, her boots colliding with the ground in pure anger. No not anger, something else. Fury.

Jace had his head in his hands. "Clary…" he said softly. "I told you not to. You'll see why tonight. I promise you. You will."

My mother had handed me clothes and given me a cabin that coincidently had Meadow, Jace, and the Lightwoods.

_**Sensitive Topic right here. Slightly descriptive. If you do not read, I will tell you what happened in a non-descriptive way at the bottom in the author's note. **_

I was changing, my tattered dress on the floor, leaving me in only my underwear. I opened my closet and screamed bloody murder at the sight I saw.

Jace ran into the room. "Dammit, dammit, dammit," he muttered, seeing me on the other side of the room, not caring I only had two scraps of clothing left on my body.

He looked inside the closet and pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in deeply. "Meadow," he called.

Meadow walked into the room and I screamed, backing up into a corner. "She's insane!" I screamed, "Absolutely insane!"

Alec and Isabelle ran into the room, and Alec blushed whenever he saw me, but I didn't care. "She did it again?" Isabelle asked and Jace nodded.

"Isabelle, check the bed, and Alec, you check the bathtub," Jace ordered. As soon as they did, he slammed Meadow against the wall.

She whimpered.

"You idiot!" he yelled. "Who was it this time? Whose cabin?"

"Found another one," Alec yelled.

"Bed's good," Isabelle called.

Meadow smiled in Jace's face. "Another person who irritated me. The one in the bathtub was drowned, and the one in the closet had his throat slit."

I whimpered, eyeing the dead body handing there, pinned by a knife.

"Get out," Jace hissed. "You'll be lucky if Clary doesn't tell her mother. You'll be kicked out."

"Didn't stop me last time," Meadow smiled. "Won't stop me this time." She walked out of the room, swinging her hips.

Jace kneeled down beside me, wiping a tear from my cheek.

"Isabelle," he said, "Can you go get her some clothes please? She probably doesn't want to wear those."

"I'll take the bodies," Alec volunteered, slipping on some gloves. "I'll get the one in the closet. You move her to a different room."

Jace picked me up, not minding that I wasn't wearing any clothes. "C'mon. We have one more free room."

_**You can begin reading right here**_

He moved me down and opened the door, revealing a dark room. He flicked on the lights and set me down on the bed.

Isabelle came in. "Here, they're going to be a teensy bit big, but you're going to sleep. I'll request for some clothes your size. You'll have some whenever you wake up in the morning." She smiled softly. "It's not your fault, Clary. Meadow's been doing this for years."

"Thank you Izzy," Jace said softly. "I'll step out for a moment while you change."

He walked into the bathroom, discreetly and shut the door. Isabelle left and I heard her talking softly to Alec.

The leggings were tight in all the wrong places and the sweatshirt was baggy and went down to my knees.

"All right," I said and Jace stepped out.

He smiled and tucked a piece of long curly hair behind my ear before kissing my forehead. "Do you want me to stay the night?"

I nodded, slipping into the bed. "Goodnight Jace."

"Goodnight Clary," he turned away from me, but I turned him back, curling into his side, my head against his chest. I could feel his laughter before slipping away, the images from the closet forever in my mind.

**All right. For you curious little buggers. Clary was changing and she saw a dead body in the closet and screamed. Jace ran in followed by Meadow and Isabelle and Alec cleaned up the mess. Meadow killed the dead person. There. **

** Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Mortal Instruments and all its characters. I own Meadow and the plot of this story. **

** Farewell! **

** Be sure to check out my other fanfictions-**

** New Marriages- The Mortal Instruments**

** So Close but So Far- The Mortal Instruments **

** The Battle of the Angels- The Mortal Instruments**

** The Experimentation- Crossover Maximum Ride and The Mortal Instruments**

** The New World- O/S Mortal Instruments **

** The Rebelling- Mortal Instruments **

** The Savior- Divergent Trilogy**

** The True Killer- O/S Mortal Instruments **

** We'll Always Have Time for Each Other- Mortal Instruments **

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	2. The Possessed

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"Good morning, Good morning! Good morning!" Jace sang loudly, pointing at me with a brush as his microphone. My eyes widened in shock that this boy so sure of himself would sing a good morning song.

Isabelle burst into the room, her whip uncoiled. "What the hell is going on in here? Do I need to be worried? Who screamed?"

"Jace's voice," I replied, standing up, having slept off what had happened last night. "He tried serenading to wake me up."

Isabelle giggled. "Well, let's pick out your training clothes. The ointment on your ankle should've healed the twist by now."

Forget me saying I slept everything off. I most definitely did not sleep everything off. In fact, it crashed down on me like a giant wave, and I was basically drowning.

Mutely, not wanting to open my mouth even the teeniest manner, I followed Isabelle to my new closet that was body free.

"Out," she snapped at Jace. He held up his hands as a sign of surrender and backed away slowly. Isabelle snapped her whip and Jace ran off, his peal of laughter heard all the way down the hall and a door slamming shut.

"Spill, what happened between you two?" She practically squealed, going from the bad bootay kicking self to an actual sixteen-year old girl. She lied back against my bed, her arms behind her head.

"Nothing really," I said nonchalantly. "I mean we just slept together. Literally _slept_. Nothing happened at all."

"Oh please," Isabelle said. "When I dropped your clothes off, your head was on his chest and his arms were wrapped around you."

My cheeks were small-ignited flames, and Isabelle threw some clothes at me. I peered cautiously at the green tank top and tight white shorts with a green stripe.

I changed cautiously before squealing in shock at my appearance that I was going to go out in _public_.

All I'd ever worn were dresses and pants whenever I went to bed. It was a law in our community to always be completely covered except for our head, hands, and certain parts of our feet. The only person to ever see you in any way uncovered was your Found One.

_The Katon Books: Modesty_

_ Section 8 - Article 24:_

_ You are never to see above the ankles or below the neck. This part must be covered with the exception of the hands, but it is considered to be a form of taunting if the hands are uncovered or the dress hugs any curves on the woman's body. _

_ Only your Found One may see you naked, or with a dress on above the ankles. _

_ If a woman is seen with any violation of this law, they will be immediately arrested. But do not fear, for you, ladies, will never do that because you are trustworthy. _

I examined myself in a state of shock, noting how tiny I actually was. I'd never seen myself unless I was taking a shower, and even then it was illegal to look in the mirror. I never even dared to peek.

"Clary?" Isabelle asked, her voice light. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," I said, my voice catching. "Isabelle, do you have anything more appropriate?"

She giggled. "You look fine Clary, trust me. Most girls will be wearing sports bras and booty shorts."

The bathroom door flew open and I set my eyes on her outfit in shock. She was wearing a skintight gear looking thing with a belt full of weapons inside of it. Her hair was pulled back into a long ponytail, the end of it reaching her butt. She had a small smile, as I looked her over in shock.

"This is for the experienced ones. We've passed all of our physical training so we spar now," Isabelle said. "We have this gear just in case a weapon penetrates our skin. You, however, will be working with flexibility and gracefulness – which you need severely."

She took my arm and led me down into the kitchen and Meadow sat at the table, her eyes red rimmed as if she'd been crying. Jace was at her side, rubbing soothing circles into her back and I stopped, my back going rigid as I gazed at the pair.

"I didn't mean to," she sobbed. "I just – Clary!" She got up, her arms wrapping around my small frame. "I didn't mean to scare you. You see, I have a mental condition and sometimes a whole new; violent part of my brain takes over. Jocelyn thinks it's because I stopped the pills so abruptly. If you have them often, and then suddenly stop, your brain goes into overdrive."

Jace sooths her off of me, whispering words of comfort into her ear. She slumps down in a wooden chair, sobbing into her arms.

I panted heavily and Isabelle pulled me away and Jace began to follow her quietly.

They pulled me into a room.

"Jace her eyes!" Isabelle screamed. "She's becoming an Addicted!"

My breathing was labored as pain ripped through my body. I'd felt this pain before. Somewhere. Sometime.

I felt my wrists being restrained as my eye vision became sharper. "C'mon Clary," Jace murmured. "When'd you last have the pills?"

"Yesterday," I breathed, panting. "At the Ceremony. If I didn't, we couldn't enter." A scream tore through my throat and I arched my back, tears streaming down my face.

My feet were tied to the bedpost as Jace let out a long whistle.

I couldn't tell how much time had passed, just how much agony I was going through. It tore through me in furious waves, going quickly through my bloodstream, but never leaving me, only adding on. The ropes at my feet rubbed furiously against my ankles, burning me.

The door burst open and all around me I heard vague shouts, but they didn't speak passed the blood roaring in my ears. All I heard were my own screams of pain.

"Please!" I whimpered and in my peripheral, I saw Jace's blonde hair whip towards me. "Just end it please."

I saw something swing at me until it all just ended.

Peace.

~_**Jace~**_

Her screams hit me in pain and I saw the way her eyes glazed over. It was torture waiting for Jocelyn. I poured buckets of ice-cold water over Clary, but I don't even think she noticed. It didn't even put a dent on her feverish skin. Her screams hurt my ears.

She yelled the same thing over and over again, almost sounding like blubber to the untrained ear, but Isabelle and I understood it just fine. "He will get you and he will kill you and he will torture you like he's doing me!"

It froze my blood as I thought of my father, his eyes transfiguring into black holes. I watched Clary's eyes do the same.

Jocelyn ran into the room, falling at her knees in front of her daughter. "Clary, Clary, baby can you here me?" Clary screamed the words over and over, tears spilling down her face like a waterfall. Isabelle, Alec, and Meadow watched helplessly.

I'd done this before with my father. Tamed his blubbering with a punch to the temple. But not Clary. I wouldn't do it to the innocent Clary restrained to the wall. Until she asked me to. They always asked me to.

"Please!" she shouted. Here it came. The moment of truth.

"What does she want?" Jocelyn yelled at me.

"She wants me to end it," I said quietly, my voice cold. "Because it hurts."

"Yeah, got that, thanks," Jocelyn replied sarcastically.

"Just end it please," she whimpered. I rubbed my knuckles, praying it would only have to be one punch. That she wouldn't be as strong as my father.

My fist flew but her screams stayed. Jocelyn had her hand over her mouth. Clary said the same things repeatedly, but quicker, her black eyes going from just the iris to spreading over the entire eye.

My fist twitched, but I couldn't bring myself to punch her again.

"Jace!" Isabelle cried. "Do it now!"

Why couldn't I punch her again? Why was this girl I'd watched grow up since she was twelve so much more different than my father who'd raised me?

_ It's not different. They're both in pain; just do it, _I told myself.

My fist flew and collided with her and she slumped over, her mouth silent.

"What the hell was that?" Alec growled, grabbing my arm. My eyes closed. I knew exactly what he was talking about. "We don't hesitate, Jace, not with the Addicted."

My eyes snapped open, staring into his eyes that were so much like his mother's. "She's not an Addicted, Alec. We won't let that happen."

"She's close enough," Jocelyn said. "You know she is Jace. She's had the pills twice, if she gets another dose, who knows what will happen?"

Shivers ran down my spine. Jocelyn was completely right. After the third dose, you could go insane. Meadow insane.

"Then we won't let it happen," Isabelle said, unstrapping Clary and bringing her gently down. "She's with us now."

"We can't prevent everything," Meadow said softly. "Do you remember Jeremy? We had to put him down like a dog."

My throat closed up, and I slumped down to the floor.

"Why does she mean so much to you, Jace?" Alec said. "You've known her for a day."

Jocelyn leaned down. "No. He's known her for five years. She just didn't know him." She touched my shoulder lightly. "Isabelle's right. You won't let anything happen to her. I know you."

I snapped, and stood up abruptly. "I'm going to go see how things are going in town."

_**~Magnus~**_

I moved out of the way of Jace Herondale as he stomped down the camp, glaring at everyone who dared to make eye contact. Including me.

I kept moving, running my fingers through my hair and tugging lightly, irritation coming along.

How the hell did Clarissa Morgenstern get pills in this camp?

I walked into the cabin and saw Isabelle biting her lip at the kitchen table, not touching her food.

"Where is she," I asked and Isabelle pointed down the hall.

"First door on the left. Be careful. Jace will kill you if you're not," she sighed, picking up a piece of bacon and dropping it back on the plate.

This was the Omega cabin, the symbol of the Greek alphabet on each door. It was at the end of them all, and from point of view, the most beautiful. The end of things was always the best.

Jace kept it well cleaned, the wood always polished and you would see him every Saturday dusting and cleaning with determination in his eyes. I always thought it was what kept him sane.

Then again, everyone was insane in their own way.

I cracked open the door to see Jocelyn rocking back and forth, watching her daughter with interest as the pasty girl only wearing a spaghetti strap tank top and athletic shorts laid on the bed, her skin flushed and tear stains tracked down her cheeks.

"You called?" I asked, my grin like a Cheshire cat.

Jocelyn breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God. She had to take pills yesterday and they just hit about five minutes ago. Jace knocked her out. How long should she stay away from everyone? How long is it going to be in her bloodstream this time?"

I pulled out a needle and a medicine dropper. I pricked her skin, and blood flowed out of the wound slowly. I took the medicine dropper, and picked up the blood and examined it, noting the color of the blood and how long it took for her blood to stop flowing.

"Dammit," I muttered, staring at her, touching a cool hand to her sweaty forehead. "Three days. Shorter than last time, shockingly. Must've taken different ones."

"She took the mind control ones," Jocelyn whispered.

My eyes widened as I stared at her. "Shit."

_**~Jace~**_

I stomped into town before making my face emotionless, like everyone else. I stared up at all the cameras, watching my every movement and I tensed as I watched people pass by. There was a sudden blaring and a cold voice came through the microphone. Alec's mother.

"Everyone, please head to the lunch line immediately."

Three lines began and the world's populations began stomping through lines. I walked along the border in the woods, letting no one see me.

I sprinted to the front, wanting to know exactly what was going on. There was a boy, loneliness written so clear across his features, and his shoulders had a small slump.

I caught my breath. How was I going to catch his attention without drawing everyone's?

I slipped easily into the line right behind the boy. I heard a growl from behind me, but the Addicted wouldn't attack me without direct orders.

The boy took a tray, and stuck in under a disposer and hundreds of little blue and white pills fell and I could almost see the gears inside the nerdy boy's mind.

I pulled up a white tray, my stomach churning as I stuck the tray under and little pills fill down, all labeled with what they do.

My breath caught and I followed the brown-headed boy to a table, trying not to throw up as I watched people's eyes become hazy, as if they were on drugs, which they were, just not deadly ones. Not the ones they used to say were against the law.

The boy sat with a group of people slowly placing pills into their mouth, muttering quietly underneath their breath.

I saw the boy beginning to put a pill into his mouth, but grabbed his wrist from underneath the table. Hopefully he knew Morse code.

I tapped quietly and his eyes widened. _Don't. _

I knew he understood as he placed his hand back underneath the table.

"Are you not going to eat those?" a small girl asked me, her eyes bright green, like Clary's, but she had dull, short, brown hair.

"No," I said, my voice catching as I made it monotone. "I'm not."

She grabbed a handful of pills and stuffed them all down her throat, a small smile spreading across her face as she picked the ones that said _happy_.

"Thanks!" she said brightly.

_We're going into the woods as soon as this is over, _I tapped. _Follow me and don't look at anyone. _

He nodded incoherently as a robotic woman took his plate of pills and then mine.

The people across from us were quickly finished.

We all stood up at once, and slapped our arms four times, all in sync. I was used to this. This is how the Addicted said goodbye.

We all walked in a line out of the tent and a drop of snow fell on my head. We walked hastily towards the woods, our heads down.

"Attack!" the intercom shouted, feedback coming quickly after it. "Intruders."

_Crap. _

~_**Clary**_~

_I was surrounded by snow, and next to me Jace was building a snowman, the head crooked, and little pebbles make the eyes and mouth. He didn't have a nose, but Jace smiled anyways. _

_ "Clarissa," he said softly, giving me a kiss on the forehead, his lips cold from the snow. _

_ I shivered from the name. "It's Clary, you know that Jace." _

_ "No!" he shouted, shoving me into the powdery snow that had suddenly turned into ice, cutting little scratches into the palms of my hand. "We addicted use full names. I am Jonathan Christopher. I gave you a nickname, Clarissa Adele." _

_ "But, Jace…" I said quietly, confusion coming over me. He always called me Clary. _

_ His foot came down on my stomach and I cried out in pain and he quickly pulled out a knife and throwing it – _

My eyes snapped open, feeling a quick headache coming on. My mother stared at me worriedly, her dark green eyes showing so much concern.

And then I remembered what had happened.

The screaming, the thrashing, and then suddenly, Jace knocking me out.

I was so tired. I just wanted to go back to sleep.

"Then do it," my mother said tiredly. "I'll do it with you."

I nodded and buried myself into the pillows, not even caring to ask how she knew what I was thinking.

~_**Jace~**_

"What's your name?" I shouted over the chaos, running through the woods, thinking how much more graceful he was than Clary.

"Simon!" he yelled back. "I was looking for my friend Clary, I haven't seen her since she went into the First Ceremony. Mine's supposed to be tomorrow!"

I almost stopped in my tracks. They had more than one ceremony now? The population of the Addicted was growing so much.

I dove underneath the electric fence and Simon went with me after a moment's worth of hesitation.

I stopped running and began walking casually. "What the hell are you doing?" Simon yelled.

"They'll shock themselves, and then, they're dead. That's the only part of the chain link fence that has a hole in it, and only The Wanderers know about it. Anybody that sees it is instantly dead because they're too stupid to realize it's electric," I replied.

We walked from there, Simon studying with amazement. I wanted so bad to make a snarky remark before remembering that this was Clary's friend.

Alec smiled warmly at Simon, and Simon looked surprised at the emotion. "What was that?" Simon whispered.

"A smile," I said. "It's an emotion. Something Clary should have."

A girl giggled at us and I winked at her. She was wearing training clothes underneath her long jacket. They trained indoors. I snorted at Simon's blush.

I led him towards the Omega cabin, knowing for sure that Jocelyn was watching over Clary. Simon looked at it in amazement and traced the symbol that reminded me of a horseshoe. It was the best-taken care of cabin, thanks to me.

"Freshly polished too," Simon murmured. "What _is _this place?"

"The place of the Wanderers. My home," I replied. "I polish it every Saturday. It's Monday."

He eyed the Psi cabin suspiciously. It was covered with vines and the stairs were starting to rot.

"Yeah, some of us don't take care of our cabins very well," I said, following his eye. "You should see the inside."

"I'm good," he muttered, opening the door.

I led him down the hallway, steeling myself to see a sleeping Clary and a sleepy Jocelyn, holding her daughter's hand.

Simon gasped and whispered her name and I noticed how horribly she was sweating, even on top of the blankets. Her cheeks looking to be a mixture of red and a sick, pale green, like she was ill.

"We found another one, and their gaining more Addicted," I reported, seeing Jocelyn suddenly becoming alert, "They have three ceremony's now."

"Seven," Simon corrected.

Jocelyn looked ill, putting her head in her hands. "That also mean there must be more Wanderers. We have to get the small ones and train them while there young. We'll set a person for each age."

"No," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed, Simon looking aware at how little of clothing Clary was wearing. "We need groups. They attack so easily."

"We need an army," Jocelyn said. "We'll start with the poor first. They won't be able to afford the dinner and breakfast pills."

She headed out of the room briskly with a shout to watch Clary. I scooted closer to her, smoothly taking the ponytail in her hair and letting it down, the sweaty curls framing her face.

"What happened to her?" Simon asked quietly.

"She had the pills. The mind controlling pills," I replied.

I noticed a piece of fallen paper on the floor, signed elegantly by Magnus, her medical conditions.

_She has recently eaten the mind controlling pills_

_She will rest for three days straight_

_Must be watched closely for the next three weeks preferably by a trained person_

_Will drink strictly water and eat no meat for the next week _

_Will not be permitted to be trained for five days._

~_Magnus_

"Dear God," Simon whispered, reading over my shoulder. "She is going to be _pissed_."

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	3. Arabella

~_**Arabella~**_

My body was tense, watching the Founding Ceremony. I was from England, Manchester, and they sent me in to spy on the Americans.

America was a very secretive country, practically a dictatorship, no matter what their Constitution said. It's a puny country now.

People filed in, their feet marching exactly in sync and my breath caught. They sat, their backs rigid and little earpieces buzzing and lighting up blue.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. They looked so much like people, but everything, every action, made clear that they weren't.

On the inside, there was a girl that was looking around, discreetly, but I could tell something was up. She was the only one not wearing gloves. She had long black hair and a vacant look of determination on her face.

I slipped into the line behind her.

She almost jumped up in surprise, but managed to remain calm, biting her lip before releasing it.

The boys sat on one end of the room, their backs so straight that they weren't even touching the backs of the chairs.

Each boy had the same haircut, straight across the forehead and then spiked up attractively. They each looked around the same weight, the tall boys puny, and the short one chubby.

I made a small noise of protestation as the girl next to me hit the middle of my back, forcing me straight. I looked at her and she shook her head slightly, putting a finger on her lips.

A woman came up to the front, her blue eyes looking directly at anyone. The girl next to me tensed slightly, and a look of remorse came across her face until nothing.

I wanted to turn, but I knew that would be the worst idea I had ever come up with.

"Welcome!" the woman said, clapping her hands. "Anyone that has not taken their pills today, please head immediately out or you will be executed." The entire time, she smiled cruelly, sending shivers down my spine. No one got up; instead, their eyes and posture remained the same, focused and straight. "Excellent. Now recently, being this is our fifth ceremony, we have had intruders, people who don't belong, coming in and taking people. I do not want this to happen to any of you, so please do as I command."

_Command_. It echoed in my mind. This was a dictatorship, and a strange and frightening one at that.

She had said something about pills. Pills for what: depression, ADHD, sickness?

No, it had something to do with their attitudes, my instincts reasoned out.

"Now," the woman clapped her hands and my back straightened even further, almost to the point of pain. "When you see an image come up in your brain, go to the person with that face." Their earpieces buzzed even wilder then, and they all got up at once and the girl next to me got up as well. She initiated me to go to a boy that was absolutely stunning with golden hair, golden eyes, golden _everything. _He looked around three years older than me.

I moved, my feet marching to the boy and I could practically see the joy the gleamed in his eyes at finding me.

The girl went over to a boy that looked, plainly put, like a dork. A cute nerd.

The boy whispered in my ear, "Jace. And run when I tell you to. Understand?"

I nodded and whispered, "Arabella. And got you."

He nodded once before turning back to the woman at the front who tutted at me, staring directly in my eyes. What was so different about me? Then I tensed, staring down at my clothes. It was a white dress that went just below my knees.

Everyone else's touched their ankles.

"You're not from around here are you?" Jace asked me, looking over my clothing.

"No," I replied. "Manchester."

He sighed, beginning to push through the crowds, dragging me towards the door, the girl and the nerdy boy right behind us.

He went through the exit doors, stabbing a couple of guards on the way, whom were holding a tray full of pills. Instead of crumpling towards the ground like any normal human being, they fell backwards and hit the ground with a thud, pills still in their hands.

Jace began sprinting and due to my training, I had no problem keeping up with the quick boy, and instead, ran hot on his heels, only making sharp turns to avoid running into his back when I needed to.

The grass seriously needed to be mowed and they didn't have any roads, I quickly noticed.

I ran into the woods, pulling out a gun hitting the butt of it into a guard's forehead.

We ran to a gate, which everyone rolled under. It was electric, I knew by the buzzing that I heard above me.

There was the sound of crackling as we kept on running towards base.

A boy that looked exactly like the girl I had sat next to but with blue eyes came out into the clearing. "Isabelle, who's this? She's not wearing the Addicted's clothing.

"This is Arabella," Jace said gruffly, standing back and looking at me. "Manchester England, correct?" I nodded quickly.

"I'm a spy. We send ours in a lot, but they never come back. So they sent me, thinking I would blend in more. I've been trained since I was nine," I replied quickly.

"Wow," the nerdy boy said, "so young."

They all nodded, and starting heading down the plain to a place that looked like my old camp in England, before I trained everyday of my life.

There were cabins, twenty-four of them, each with a Greek symbol on them.

A woman, with red, beautiful hair that was beginning to gray, ran up to us. "Who'd you find now?" she asked, looking at the three with adoring eyes, and I noticed the most adoration towards Jace, and just a smile towards the nerdy boy.

"A spy from England," The boy with raven hair said. "Arabella, welcoming to the Wanderers."

~_**Clary**_~

A fairly sparkly man, whom had introduced himself as Magnus, was watching me with vague interest, like one might watch a history show.

"Won't you just let me go?" I exclaimed, half-heartedly and Magnus laughed.

"Stubborn one," he replied. "And no. You could kill someone. You're still under Mr. Scary man's powers."

I sighed, leaning back onto the pillows, wanting to do something. "Tell me a story," I'd finally decided. I'd been in this room for three days and hadn't heard anything interesting. I wanted something entertaining, even if it was fiction.

Magnus sighed. "There once was a girl named Clary and she wouldn't shut up."

I frowned, twirling a piece of red hair around my fingers. "I want a love story."

He smiled softly, "All right.

"There once was a girl named Atiana. She was of the angels and four thousand and some years old. She'd always found some interest in the humans that she watched day and night, for she was a Guardian Angel and watched over many.

"Once, she saw a boy, so much like an angel, but so human at the same that it amazed her. He fought demons, lurking in the shadows and attacking like a whirlwind. He'd accidently killed a cat once.

"He began to grow older, around the age of sixteen when she fell in love with him. Angels cannot love, not humans who sin anyways. She fell from the skies, expecting to go to hell, but an angel is not cast down for falling in love. She fell to the earth.

"The boy came across her one night, hunting for his demons. He attacked her, about to pierce her heart until he saw her face. She had the greenest of eyes, which pierced straight into his soul, so far deep that he fell to the ground in agony and died. She'd wept for many days and nights, cradling his head oh so gently. She pierced her heart with his sword, and was sent to the heavens once again, except now for judgment. She was cast down to hell this time.

"The End."

I was gaping at the glittery boy. What had made his heart so cold?

"That's so…cruel," I murmured, watching the boy at the other end of the room who had seem so perky with cautious eyes.

"Love is cruel," Magnus replied softly, examining his purple nails. "You give your heart away, only for it to eventually be shattered to a million pieces and you're blinded by love to the point where you give the person before you more importance than yourself. Whenever you die, or your loved one dies, do you really think you'll die together? No, your body lives on but your soul and heart are just an empty shell. You never forget about the one you love, for love won't let you forget. Sometimes, I think it's better to forget."

"But that's not true," I whispered quietly, sitting up. "You love someone because you want to do that, not because you're forced to. And even if you can't forget, you know that they would be disappointed if you gave up. So you don't, and you make your heart become filled with more love, because they would want you to do that."

A throat cleared in the doorway and my head snapped up and Magnus's green eyes followed my line of sight before they fell on Jace.

"You know," Jace said, "You guys are totally giving pointless debates."

I laughed before Magnus started as well. A girl came up and she was absolutely beautiful. Her complexion was pale and smooth and her eyelashes were long and swarmed grey eyes. Her lips were tiny, but full and her eyebrows were slim. Straight brown hair surrounded her face and framed it perfectly. "Jace," she said quietly, her voice soft and smooth, and had an accent. "Jocelyn would like to speak to you. She said to bring her daughter."

Jace turned and fascination filled his eyes as he stared at the girl below him. I felt my stomach tighten as I watched the two of them speak quietly.

Jace seemed so taken by the girl that reached the bridge of his nose, meaning she was around 5'7 and seven inches taller than me.

I looked down at my feet, swallowing a lump in my throat. Magnus looked at me with pitying eyes; as if he knew the pain I was going through. He couldn't possibly.

"Clary," Jace finally said, and his voice seemed distant. "Will you come with us?"

I nodded, excited to get out of the bed. My bare feet touched the wooden floor and I smiled softly. Magnus caught my wrist, as I was about to leave the room. "Love is cruel," he finally said, and I couldn't agree more.

~_**Isabelle**_~

I watched Simon throw the blade and smiled as it lodged itself into the wall, for the seventeenth time. He was just too adorable.

He muttered something incoherent about wanting to see if the air conditioner made that big of a difference.

"Simon," I finally said, letting him know of my presence that had before been unknown information. "Would you like me to teach you?"

He nodded eagerly and I couldn't help but smile. I loved my determined boys.

"First off, you're holding it wrong. So, you need to put all of your fingers except for your pinky and your thumb on one side. No, don't do it yet, you'll drop it! Then, place your thumb directly in the center of the knife and let your pinky hang off. Now you can move."

He flung the knife and it whirled through the air, actually touching the edge of the target this time. He smiled happily.

"You're getting better," I told him, a smile coming onto my face. I looked at all the knives in the wall, none of them closer than a foot away from the target, and then the major difference. "Let me have one." I held it and focused before relaxing and throwing the knife, watching it whirl through the air and landing directly in the center, rattling the entire target with the amount of force I'd thrown it with.

"That girl, Annabella or whatever," I began saying, "something's off about her. She doesn't make any sense. There are not even any spy camps in Manchester. We're in an alliance with all of them."

"Jace seems to like her," Simon replied, sending little shocks of anger down my spine.

"Yeah, well Jace likes any girl with a pretty face," I said.

Simon shrugged nonchalantly, as if having a girl that could get information anywhere was not a big deal. "Well, I'm going to get to know her before judging."

I drew in a sharp breath before walking briskly out.

I couldn't tell the age of the young girl, but white-hot fury ran through my body as I watched how she hung off his elbow and his eyes lit up whenever she began speaking to him in that quiet voice of hers.

"So, Arabella," Jace said, and I immediately hated the name, not because it was ugly or anything, because the name was absolutely lovely, but because that girl possessed it and Jace said it with such fondness. "How old are you?"

I didn't hear her reply because her voice was so stupidly small, but anger coursed through my veins when Jace began to smile at her response.

We finally arrived at my mother's cabin and walked down many halls with Arabella flirting with Jace and giggling every now and then, and I heard the accent as clear as day. It was a lovely accent.

Jace walked right in and my mother smiled warmly at Jace and I but studied Arabella with a wary expression. "I did not invite Arabella, and therefore, she will, as a matter of the rules, will not be permitted to this meeting."

Arabella began to protest but my mother snapped her fingers and two men around the age of twenty escorted her out.

Was it bad that I didn't feel bad for her? Nah, probably not.

"I don't trust that girl," my mother stated quickly, and held her hand up before Jace could even begin to protest. "Isabelle ran a scan of the entire city of Manchester and there are no spy camps down there. No M16, nothing. And therefore, she is either a fraud from England getting nosy, or she is a confused spy from Valentine."

"How the hell can you be a _confused spy_?" I snapped, knowing this Arabella figure couldn't possibly be confused by such an evil man.

"There are pills," my mother replied, "that will replace the memories a person has. It happened to Aaron Hamlet, and he died, but technology improves. They could have spies, like we have spies. And language, Clarissa."

I wrinkled my nose at my name.

"I want a close eye kept on her, and Clary, I trust you to report anything wrong about her. You've already shown a disliking to her, and I've taught you to be an actress," my mother said and Jace sent me a surprised look. I shrugged my shoulders in reply. Screw what he thought.

My mother shooed us away, and reminded me to be kind to whoever was watching me, because apparently she'd gotten quite a few complaints recently.

Oh well.

~_**Alec**_~

Isabelle and I were typing feverishly on our computers, breaking into the London secret files, trying to find anything about this suspicious Manchester case.

_The Prime Minister was shot today. We shall hold his funeral in his hometown, Manchester. There will be a memorial in London, if any citizen cannot make it. _

Nope. Zip. Zero.

I placed my head in my hands, knowing Manchester should be somewhere in these files.

"This is professional clearing history," I told Isabelle and she was studying something on the map, her breath catching.

"It's a battle map of America," she murmured. "It's dated for 2072, twenty-seven years ago. When all of this began."

I wheeled my chair over to her, feeling my nerves clench as I gazed at it. Half of America was missing, the part that was unused in the war. Our part.

"Alec," Isabelle said, her voice quiet, and I looked up, meeting her gaze. "Where was Valentine from?"

I racked my memory before a look of horror came onto my face.

"Isabelle," I said quietly. "Manchester, England. He was Prime Minister and faked his death there." I looked at my article, meeting her eyes.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "We need to tell Jocelyn."

"No," I said. "We need to get rid of Arabella. She's a spy from _Manchester, England." _

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** Updated on June 5****th**** at 3:12 PM. **


	4. Wanted Alive

~_**Jocelyn**_~

Jace was too trusting. I'd known that whenever I first saw him. He trusted anyone who was like him, hence his trusting of the Wanderers around him.

But I'd never seen him trust someone so quickly as he did Arabella. At least he was wary at certain points towards people and wouldn't hesitate to knock them out, but other than that, he was fairly _welcoming_. Although, trust and welcoming is fairly different, he seemed to do both with Arabella.

She seemed like a trustworthy person, all shy and agreeable, but that was why I _don't_ trust her.

Valentine was just like her.

Isabelle's research didn't add up to what she was saying either. Manchester has been off the charts for years, never mentioned and we never had meetings, because they weren't allies with us. They weren't against us either, and therefore had no importance of our concerns.

Until now, and maybe it was a good thing Arabella brought the city to our attention, because it did seem a little suspicious.

A loud knock sounded at my door and I yelled the regular for them to enter. Isabelle and Alec walked in, looking flustered, holding a stack of disheveled papers.

"Jocelyn," Isabelle said, walking around to the other end of the table. "We found something, and I am absolutely convinced that Arabella is a spy for Manchester, just not for our side."

She slipped the papers in front of me and I saw a casual map of the United States, but there were little X's on it, and battle ships.

"A battle map," I murmured and then looked at the date and city. "From Manchester. Oh my God. Get Arabella in here right this instant. That girl is _so _done for."

~_**Clary**_~

"You know," Jace began. "Arabella is not as bad as you think. She's very sweet and innocent."

"Sweet and innocent my ass," I muttered, under my breath before speaking up. "My mother doesn't even trust her and she's trying to get as many recruits as possible."

Jace shook his head. "Your mother's had her heart ripped out of her chest too many times to count. She doesn't trust easily."

I glared at him, feeling that he didn't understand my situation at all. _Of course he doesn't, you idiot, he doesn't know how you feel. _"My mother tries to be nice to most people though. She doesn't even try with Arabella."

"Jace! Hey, Clary!" Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear I thought dreading each step as she approached us. She sat on the edge of my bed, smiling like a little brat. How does Jace not see this at all? "Do you guys know why Jocelyn kicked me out? I mean, I didn't even do anything! She's so uptight to me."

My entire body clenched, but Jace just smiled easily. "She's just trying to make sure everything's safe. Having someone who's from a different country is a little stressing for her."

"Whatever," Arabella said. "She could at least try to be _polite_ about it."

My nose wrinkled and I felt my entire body explode. "You know what, you little brat?! My mother is polite, and isn't it just so ironic that you're the only person she doesn't like. I've dealt with a lot of crap these past few days, but you're just the worst thing ever. You charm everyone, or you think you do, and then you talk trash behind their back! I wonder what you say about Jace!"

Her glare cut right into me, and I must say, I did feel kind of guilty about suddenly snapping, but she was insulting _my mother._

"Clary!" Jace exclaimed. "That was uncalled for!"

I felt tears of frustration come into my eyes before stomping out of the room. Why couldn't he understand what she'd done to me?

Why was it always my fault?

~_**Jace**_~

I felt guilt pour into me like a waterfall. I wanted to tell her so badly what my plan was, but she couldn't hold that yet. She's not that amazing of an actress just yet.

Arabella drove me insane, truth to be told. She was _clingy_ and never shut her mouth, and even at age thirteen, she was too immature.

I _had_ to convince the others though, no matter how much stress it put me into. Isabelle was the only one who kind of saw straight through it.

Arabella had fake tears running down her face and it took all of my strength not to shake her and scream in pure frustration.

Instead, I did the opposite. I took her into my arms, watching Clary walk down the hall, hugging her coat to her body, her red mane of fiery curls down and shoulders shaking, the obvious hint she was upset. She looked back and her face was one of pure frustration.

"I'm fine," Arabella said quietly, pulling away and walking out of the room.

I ran my hands through my hair as Meadow sauntered in, a look of seriousness on her face, biting her lip, "Clary – Where's Clary?" she asked me, and I shrugged helplessly. "Well, I suppose while you're here, Jocelyn wants you. She wants all of us. Including Arabella. She's already on her way though."

Clary walked into the room, a single tear track on and a look of surprise on her face. "I forgot a hat," she mumbled she looked miserable and still more angry than I thought a girl her size could get.

"Jocelyn wants to see you," Meadow said quietly, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. "It's about Arabella. We were all summoned."

Clary nodded, pulling on her hat and gloves and we followed Meadow to Jocelyn's cabin.

The lower training class was marching around the camp, all in sync. There were sixty or of them, and two hundred in all of us.

There were three million of the Addicted.

Jocelyn smiled warmly at us, and gestured for us to sit. "First, I would like a word with Jace in private, though, out in the hall."

I followed her out into. "Jocelyn, I have something I need to tell you."

"That can wait," she said in her motherly tone, and I rolled my eyes. "You cannot trust Arabella anymore, Jace."

I sighed. "I _don't _trust Arabella! She's a spoilt brat that is like milk left on the counter for two centuries! I'm trying to get close to her, that's all."

Jocelyn looked surprised, her little mouth making an _O_ at my sudden outburst. "Oh, well, we can go back inside then, I suppose."

I smirked; resisting the temptation to burst out with laughter as we walked inside, knowing that little coil of stress was out.

Arabella came in, her brown hair tousled with snow and a shy, fake smile on her lips. "You called."

Jocelyn snapped, and two guards appeared, each taking one of Arabella's wrists. She had a panicked look on her face before swallowing and asking in a squeaky voice, "What's going on, Miss Jocelyn?"

A guard tightened his hand. "You will only speak when spoken to. Is this understood, Miss Arabella Jenson?"

Arabella nodded quickly, and I knew she would snap under a little more pressure, letting out all of her secrets. But Jocelyn was too kind to do that. I could see her just restraining an innocent looking thirteen year old was killing her, even if she didn't act as if it were.

"You," Jocelyn said, pausing and taking a drink of water, and I could see then how really stressed she was. "Are under arrest for being a spy of the Wanderers. You are to put into prison until further notice."

An ugly sneer appeared on Arabella's normally so lovely face. She growled and tried to worm herself out of the guard's tight grip. "I will not. Master Valentine will get you before that happens. I am his favored student."

"Not if we make it seem like you died," Jocelyn said coldly, and I knew from experience what would happen if you disrespected the woman. It is not a very lovely experience. "In which we will. My daughter is very talented at art, and will draw your face. Isabelle is known for sewing clothes, in which you appeared on your first days here that you succeed in fashion. She will sow a long, fashionable dress." Isabelle smiled a sickly sweet smile and showed off her jacket. 'Hand sewn,' she mouthed. "Meadow, sadly, has many vials of blood in her closet, and I'm sure would not be afraid to share?" Meadow blushed a deep crimson, knowing her crimes when she hit off the rocker. "I'm sure one of our excelled pottery students will mold a body similar to yours and your hair is so similar to a horse's, we could easily sew it onto the body's face. All we have to do is face you upside down with a bullet wound going through the stomach, take a picture and Jace and Alec can hack into the system of the closest town and email the picture to Valentine."

Clary looked amazed at her mother's thought out plan, and I knew that this wasn't even one of Jocelyn Fray's best plans. _Those_ were terrifyingly amazing.

"Take her away," Jocelyn shooed and they walked out before her posture relaxed and her shoulders slumped.

"Jocelyn," Meadow says quietly, her eyes concerned. "Let Luke take over for a little while. You're dying of stress here. Take a break for at least a couple of days."

Clary bit her lip, studying her mother, her eyes conflicted. Clary didn't see her mother very often for the past seven years, and I could tell she was still trying to figure her out.

Jocelyn sighed, her once emerald green eyes dull and tired. I didn't understand how she ran this without breaking down and crying and taking out her anger on some of us. That was the first time in years that I'd seen her finally snap under pressure. "It is my job to run this, and make it as successful as possible. Besides, Luke is away, trying to convince Europe to fight with us. How is he going to run this operation from half way across the globe?"

Isabelle's eyebrows were furrowed and I could tell she wanted to say something, but wasn't sure of what the outcome would be. "Then let us take over." Her voice was quiet, apprehensive, and cautious, but convincing all the same. I felt a shiver run down my spine, and couldn't see Jocelyn's reaction because her head was down.

She looked up slowly, looking at each of us, our stance, everything, and then sighed. "Very well, you do it anyways, so I suppose you may. Isabelle, you can be our spy for the Addicted. Jace, you can train all of us. Alec, you run through all of our data and do the paperwork. Clary, you – well you're supposed to be resting, but I suppose for this, you don't have to – make sure everything's running all right. Meadow, you stay by Clary. Simon, you may go with Isabelle." Simon looked relieved, and I couldn't blame him. He didn't know very much about the camp –neither is Clary though, but she has Meadow with her - and him being with Isabelle was just a gift given from the heavens.

Meadow smiled shyly at Clary, her face practically hiding behind her blonde wall of curls.

Jocelyn walked briskly out, and I was relieved, because one second longer would have meant she would've changed her mind.

Clary had a look of longing as her gaze followed her mother, assumingly wanting to know the warrior side of her mother.

"Well," Alec said, "I suppose we best begin now."

~_**Isabelle**_~

Assuming the Addicted all knew how I looked by now, I decided to assemble a disguise. I first began with purple rectangular glasses, before slipping them on my nose, feeling how restrained my nose felt. Oh well.

I began sewing the dress, making it slim and loose and light, not full like the dress that Clary's had been, so I could still pack a kick into anyone if needed. It was long (of course) and a light salmon color with long lace sleeves. I decided to leave it like that, and the Addicted wore ballet flats, so I pulled out soft white ones, packing them in a bag so I wouldn't ruin them in the woods.

Next was the make up. I made my skin tan to where it didn't match too well with my hair on purpose before dabbing a light bit of mascara, knowing if I wore my usual I would be recognized on spot.

I then decided on dark blue contacts for my eye color, not as light as Alec's eyes though.

I dabbed some hair chalk into my hair, putting little electric blue streaks in random places. The Addicted never wore this stuff unless they were prostitutes, and I wanted a hint of all the gossip at a late night bar.

I put on the dress, feeling it flow gracefully around my legs before plopping on a headband and twisting my hair into an elegant French tie. I added dangling earrings and smiled, knowing I would get there just in time for the clubs to open.

I walked down cabin Omega's polished stairs, watching people around me, and pushing up my glasses.

"Isabelle?" Alec asked, heading into the cabin. "Where are you going?"

I shrugged; my brother knew the requirements of being a spy. You had to make any job work to get any sort of information, whether it was which couple was shockingly put together or what was put inside the pills. "I'm going to the club in town. I should find something from some guy who injected himself with drugs."

Alec sighed, looking down at the ground. "Promise me you'll be careful?"

I smiled. "I promise." I always am, for the most part.

I exchanged my shoes before walking into the plain open, bowing respectfully at a guard that looked at me in disgust.

I wondered what he'd be like if her saw the women in the Wanderers camp.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Gordon," I said. "How has your day been?"

His lip curled back in disgust, smacking me across the cheek, his ring almost biting into my skin. "Prostitutes, you disgusting women, don't speak to those of higher level. Next time it happens there will be a whipping."

I pretended to flinch away before curtseying and running off with a fake sob but I was really hiding my laughter. The Addicted hated being punished but I could have totally taken that guy.

I vaguely remembered that Simon was supposed to be here, but tonight was supposed to be a one-man job. I would tell him about it though. He would want to know.

A boy, around the age of thirteen, smacked my butt, and I resisted all temptation not to succumb to the anger that was tearing its way through me and smack the boy straight across the cheek.

His mother grabbed his arm, telling him to never even accidently _nudge_ a woman like that. I bit my lip, making my eyes look offended like the others around here.

Day was orderly. Night was free. No one ate dinner or swallowed pills.

I smiled at the man at the front of the club, running my hand seductively down his chest, whispering into his ear, "Twenty pills." I winked and the man smiled.

"I'll see you in four hours, if you don't find a better deal. They're cheap bastards tonight," the guard replied roughly, squeezing my hip. I bit my lip, walking sassily in.

You may be wondering, _why have prostitutes when everyone is happily married? _

Clubs here weren't meant for married people. You would be beaten harshly if you tried to enter when you tried to enter with a mark on your ear. Jace learned that the hard way.

They were meant for the people sixteen and younger.

Several hands tried to grope me until I got up to the bar.

"What type of injection do you prefer, pretty lady?" a husky voice asked behind me, and I turned slowly around.

"I don't do injections," I replied, "I like to be _aware_."

"Ah," he winked, "How much do you cost, babe? I haven't seen you around here."

I tried to not curl my lip, and instead curled my toes before smiling. "Twenty pills."

"Ooh," he said, his voice deep from recently hit puberty. "Cheap and sexy."

He dragged me to a back room and closed the door.

"Wait," I murmured, coming close to his ear. "I forgot to mention, prostitutes don't get in on the gossip, so you have to tell me _something._"

He shoved me backwards, his eyes wide and ferocious. "You, little slut, know exactly what they do when people let out unnecessary things that aren't supposed to be here."

I rolled my eyes. These people abided to the simplest of laws so easily. There had to be one person who was a rebel. "Does this look like a face that cares? I mean, it's not like I'll tell anyone."

"Filth, there are cameras _everywhere _even in people's _houses,_" he said, his voice raw, before shoving open the door, casting one last dirty look at me and running off.

I was breathing heavily. Everywhere? That meant there were cameras in here.

They wouldn't recognize me until they captured me, they would've ignored the boy at first, if it was me in my natural state, but now that I was trying to get information in a _disguise, _they wouldn't notice the _boy_ until it was too late. They didn't touch the person trying to get information, especially if it was well known.

I sprinted out, catching the boy by his wrist, and he jumped up in the air.

"Do you take your pills?" I murmured, noting that his brown eyes weren't hazel.

His breath caught. "No. My face swells." His voice was shameful.

"Then you _have_ to come with me. _Please,_" my eyes - I knew from mastering this look with Alec - were wide and pleading.

The club door slammed open, and even through the masses of children, I felt the bitter wind hit me in the face as guards in green clothing walked in. My breath caught. "We have a witness saying they have seen a Wanderer. Please, witness, come forward."

A girl, her blonde hair making it clear with orange chalk that she was a prostitute, waddled through the crowd. _No._ _I promised_. _I _promised _I wouldn't get hurt._ "Her name," she said, quietly, her voice respectful, "was Isabelle, Maryse Lightwood's daughter. She used to be my best friend before she left. I didn't know she didn't take her pills, she was just bullied, so I became her friend."

The green guards nodded kindly. They each had different colors, a poem to memorize it.

_ Red for the confined_

_ Orange for the blind_

_ Yellow for the high_

_ Green for the spy_

_ Blue for the low_

_ Purple for the woe. _

I'd never understood what it meant until Alec explained it to me. Confined meant no freedom, so it were those in jail. The blind were made blind after the age of sixty, so blind were the old. The high was the rich, Upper Class. I'd understood the spy; it was meant for us and other countries, hence the green guards at the front. Blue was the guardians of the Lower class. Purple was the ones in distress, the insane, or the depressed.

The blind was the one I hated. Why make people blind after a certain age? Were they experiments?

"She went back there with a boy, pretending she was a prostitute. The boy ran out minutes later and she asked him if she took his pills, I was right by them both, and he said no. I caught no more of their conversation after that." The girl finished. I remember this girl but not her name; she really was my best friend when I was young. Was that how sick people were now? They'd betray someone for loyalty, for acceptance?

"We ask the boy to come forward, and take the spy. You will receive punishment, but you will not die if you do," The green guard's voice was cold, cutting into me like a knife.

Cold sweat ran down my back, feeling myself getting sweaty with nerves. I didn't trust the boy next to me, but he would be my destiny.

His hand clasped around my wrist. It was now or never, my life or death, depending on his choice.

He started forward.

~_**Alec**_~

I couldn't help it. My sister was in that club. I hacked into the cameras, watching the horrifying scene flash before my eyes, watching the crowd separate like the water when Moses cast his staff into the Red Sea.

It was a pathway, and Isabelle was led down the middle by some boy who didn't take his pills, who was threatened by death – another clue to their sick government.

I smashed the laptop closed, knowing a crack was probably down the middle of Jocelyn's closing laptop.

Normally, I would go to Jocelyn with this information, but I knew she was on a break, and would immediately go back into stress mode, adding more wrinkles onto her pale face, adding darker rings around her eyes, signals of no sleep.

I wouldn't do that to the kind woman who took me in.

I threw on a coat, watching Clary and Meadow giggle about two little girls playing tag. They were twins, born right here in camp. We did have married couples here.

I walked passed them, Clary smiling at me brightly. I didn't even offer a grin in return. It was half out of jealousy, and half out of stress. Meadow looked concerned, but I could tell by the position of her eyebrows she was going to have another little episode soon.

I backtracked, leaning down to whisper in Clary's ear, "Be careful. You have about another hour to be carefree with what you say, and then she becomes insane again. Just compliment her until you both go to bed." She nodded, her green eyes widening slightly. She was nothing that Jace usually went for.

_But she's been around in his life since he was twelve, _the smart part of my brain reasoned, but I chose to ignore it.

I walked about another half mile, ignoring people's waves and replying to their hellos with grunts. My foot stepped into the indoor space where we trained with grace. Jace had about twenty thirteen-year-old girls surrounding him, all giggling to each other as he took off his shirt.

"So what skill did we learn today girls?" he asked, his face relaxed and cocky as he leaned back. He was enjoying their admiration.

"How to break someone's neck!" An excited girl practically squealed.

Jace was about to say something when he caught my eye. "Yes Alec?" he asked, his tone blasé.

"Isabelle. She's been captured," I replied, leaning against the wall.

Jace's golden eyes widened before murmuring something to the girls, who'd watched the event with excited eyes, some wary.

"Captured?" He asked, his tone raising an octave. "She went out without Simon? Simon was her distraction!"

"She went as a prostitute to a club. A girl recognized her, called the green guards and now she's _captured_, Jace. Her and some guy," I replied, my voice harsh and slightly unsteady.

"No, no, _no_," Jace said, his eyes shocked. "Alec, I know you know what I'm going to say."

"We call reinforcements of the highest level and send them in?" I asked, my voice slightly hopeful.

Jace laughed, his laugh hollow. "No, of course not. It's like you don't even _know_ me. I say we grab Clary and Meadow, and get Isabelle's ass out of there."

"What about the boy?" I asked.

"To hell with the boy," he said. "I'll sacrifice anyone to get her back."

~_**Meadow**_~

I knew She was coming back.

I didn't call the insane part of myself _me_. I even named her Genevieve. I didn't call her that most of the time though. I called her, _Her_.

Poor fragile Clary would suffer another wrath of Her anger, wave after wave. Why did She enjoy that? Why did She enjoy their screams of pure terror, of pain, of fear?

Of course, I didn't date anyone. Jace and I had a one time thing until I thought it through. Anyone who dared to date the insane girl would have to suffer Her anger.

I had to suffer this pain because of the asshole Valentine. I know most people say this, but what I meant was true. I would kill him and his son. I would pierce his heart, enjoying his screams of pain, the only screams _I_ would actually enjoy.

I felt Her bubbling up intensely, threatening to break my determination and rear Her ugly head, killing anyone and everyone who dared to get in the way of Her wrath.

"Clary," I mumbled, my voice harsh. "Beware, for She returns."

The redhead scooted closer to me, her small hands framing my face calmly, whispering words of comfort into my ears. "C'mon, sooner you let it out, the sooner it will leave you. Release."

And I did. She came out, tearing Her way out of my restraints, letting out fury.

~_**Clary**_~

She whimpered, before shoving me backwards onto the bench, and I felt my head hit the wood, making me dizzy with the force she put into her buck.

I gripped the back of my head, feeling my eyes widen as I strategically rolled off the bench, landing in a crouch.

"Meadow," I say cautiously and her eyes narrow. "I like your, um, shoes."

"It's Genevieve," she growled, and I gulped. "And I'm not wearing your shoes."

"I meant feet. I get confused. Anyways, I'm going to head to bed now. Goodnight?" I asked, trying to smile.

As I stood up, her hands grasped the back of my jacket, pulling me back, making my head crack against the bench, forcing me to cry out.

I heard footsteps, and felt someone yank Meadow off of me.

Arms circled around my waist and I breathed heavily out, clutching the back of my head.

"Clary, Clary," I heard a comforting voice. "I need you to slowly turn around, and look at me. Okay? Can you do that for me?"

I turned around, gasping at the movement, clutching my head harder until feeling a bump and hissing.

"Concussion," Jace murmured, and even though it was quiet, I felt it echo in my head millions of times. "My God. How many times did she hit you?"

"Twice," I groaned. "I'm sleepy."

He smiled. "C'mon. Let's get you to bed. This happens a lot doesn't it? Me putting you to bed?"

"Shut up, Jace," I grumbled back. He laughed, scooping me up.

We walked for what felt like an eternity and I felt myself shamefully slipping away.

Finally I heard a cabin creak open, and felt a soft bed underneath me.

"You can sleep now," Jace whispered, so quietly I normally wouldn't hear him. "Goodnight."

He blew the candle out and closed the door behind him before I slipped away into oblivion. But one thought remained, _I wish he would stay._

**Amount of words: 4487**

**Updated on: June 13, 2014**

**Disclaimer: I own the plot of this story and Meadow, Arabella, and other minor characters. Cassandra Clare owns The Mortal Instruments as well as any other characters not mentioned previously. **

**`WOAH! Longest chapter yet! I did have a little while to write it, given I haven't updated in about a week. Sorry about that, I've been a teensy bit distracted (Doctor Who), but I'm going to go ahead and work on Chapter 5 now!** **HAVE A GREAT REST OF YOUR DAY!**

**~Bethanie Dunn~**

**P.S: Let's give a round of applause for HopelessRomantic1599! They're absolutely amazing! *Claps in a circle * **


	5. Escaped

_Previously on The Founding: _

_We walked for what felt like an eternity and I felt myself shamefully slipping away._

_ Finally I heard a cabin creak open, and felt a soft bed underneath me._

_ "You can sleep now," Jace whispered, so quietly I normally wouldn't hear him. "Goodnight."_

_ He blew the candle out and closed the door behind him before I slipped away into oblivion. But one thought remained, __I wish he would stay._

_**Isabelle**_

I was led to the front as if it was a mechanical program in the boy's mind. It didn't matter whether the boy was selfish or not – perhaps me being a rebel didn't help his situation – I would've been captured anyways I always am. He just committed suicide by bringing me to them. I probably would've left once they started shooting anyone.

I felt the looks of fear mixed with disgust following me. They didn't understand what was going on.

"We've been waiting for you for a while now, dear," a woman coated with green hissed in my ear, sending little cold shivers down my spine. "You disgusting little nuisance. The prostitute life works well with you, Lightwood."

My nose scrunched and my toes curled. "I don't go by my last name anymore, bitch."

The gasps of people around me didn't affect me. Swearing was strictly against the laws, and anyone caught swearing would be hung. Cruel punishment for using words.

However, the harsh slap after the fact _did_ affect me. Probably not as much as the woman hoped though.

"You treat your elders with respect, young lady," the woman growled showing off her perfect white teeth that clenched together as she spoke to me.

I laughed, and I could tell it made the boy uneasy to hear the lack of warmth in it. "You aren't my _elder_, and I do respect the people around me, the Wanderers do that better than you lot do. I, however, do not respect those who don't respect _me_."

She tensed, her lips curling, showing off her perfect white teeth that were glowing in the strobe lights, flashing yellow, green, purple, and red making it look like she was not only addicted to the pills but to the assortment of drugs that can be found if you know the right people. "You don't deserve respect."

She yanked me along, before I yelled at her with a condescending tone, "I am a human being, I can walk, you know."

My stomach twisted, even though I knew it shouldn't, it would please her to see the fear in the back of my eyes. Her hand whipped across my face, and I growled, so tempted to fight her, making her nose go so crooked it would touch her cheek, but knowing that would only cause further retribution, and my own guilt, no matter how idiotic this woman was.

They clasped handcuffs around my wrists, fiddling around with dozens of them until reaching ones that would fit my slim wrists, child's handcuffs.

They bound the boy's with rope – the boy whom I yearned to know the name of, no matter how irrelevant it was to the situation at hand.

"Your mother wouldn't be very proud of you," the woman sneered, her once perfect face contorted into a sea of ugliness, worse than I had ever seen before. I tensed at the mention of my mother, remembering the pain in my heart and on her face as pills were shoved down her throat, to save Alec and me. "She'd probably be the one to whip you of your crimes, if that were her duty."

"That's not my mother then," I replied sharply. "My mother wouldn't dare lay a finger on me. The woman you're talking about may be related by blood, but she isn't 'mother' to me anymore. She would be Maryse, an infected woman."

The woman wearing the attire of green didn't reply, but her glare on me lessened. I'd been sensitive, and she did the natural a _human being _would do. It was hours after she had taken her pills at lunch time after all. "You miss her, don't you?"

My eyes flickered to the ground, forcing back tears that had been unobtrusive since I watched her swallow the cursed pills with water. It was only so long that you could shove retracing memories back. "Even if I could have her back, she wouldn't be my mother anymore she'd still be infected. My leader is my mother now. She's everyone's mother."

I cursed underneath my breath. I was showing a weakness. At first, it was just a little show to distract the woman from smacking me around, but this was never supposed to happen.

It couldn't happen again, I knew that.

_**Jace**_

"I wish you would stay," she murmured, softly, in that little tinkling voice of hers, and I wasn't even sure if she knew she said it herself.

Or if she said it at all.

I felt myself sigh, letting out mountains of stress. I was surprised I didn't erupt from dormant volcano mode in front of those girls.

Meadow popped out of a room, her eyes having little hazel streaks in them, something that always happens in her episodes. Her hands, a work of Alec's, were bound behind her back with rope tightly, but not enough to give her rope burn or injure herself. Alec walked out seconds later; breathing down her back as they walked out of the room I'd never been in before.

Alec's electrifying blue eyes met my and his head inclined toward the door as if indicating to go into the haunted room they had just left.

Well I suppose that there's a first time for everything.

_**Luke**_

The clicks of the soldiers' steel toe boots echoed off of the stone walls making the place seem even more haunted then silent halls probably were. The clicking continued as we walked down to the Prime Minister of France's office never broken - not even by a cough from one of them.

I didn't feel my stomach clench and then unclench as we walked down the beige walls as I typically did, but instead, I felt annoyed. I'd been up and down these halls too many times to count and they still didn't trust me to go unguarded. It took a lot to make me annoyed.

The office door creaked open and the brown head I was oh so familiar with whirled around in his spinning chair, his face wearing a grim smile.

This would be my last day to convince the government of France, I should be terrified, but I wasn't. This wouldn't be the first time I was turned down.

"Bonjour Monsieur Falvo. Avez-vous une réponse pour moi?" **(Hello Mr. Falvo. Do you have a response for me?) **I spoke in his language, knowing it would be a distraction and a bit of an annoyance for him if he had to speak English for me.

The glasses on the bridge of Mr. Falvo's nose slipped down a fraction of a centimeter, just barely enough for my trained eye to notice. "Je crains que non. Vous avez seulement un jour pour me convaincre." (**I'm afraid not. You only have one day to convince me.)**

I winced, feeling the time limit weigh down on me. France would be a fantastic ally to have, but I was afraid it might be impossible. Falvo was a very stubborn and concrete man.

It was the final straw.

I slipped my hand in my pocket, pulling out the tiny blue flash drive, holding it up. "Ceci est la preuve de ce que Morgenstern a fait. J'ai besoin d'un ordinateur." **(This is proof of what Morgenstern did. I need a computer.)**

Falvo suddenly looked interested leaning forward; snapping and a guard brought forth a laptop. I moved towards him, my stomach coiling, but I tried not to show it, using the training Jocelyn gave me, I wiped my face of all emotions and replaced it with a look of honesty.

My fingers fumbled with the flash drive as I plugged it in, my hands trembled and began to sweat. This was top-secret information.

The greasy haired man opened the laptop, licking his lips. He grinned as it lit up, I typed in series of passcodes before opening the file.

Jocelyn was always prepared, I knew that from the forty years I'd known her, but even I was surprised when he opened the untitled flash drive that hundreds of different languages appeared on the screen, in alphabetical order.

He smiled at me, his eyes lighting up. "Vous Wanderers sont très bien préparés." **(You Wanderers are very well prepared.)**

I felt pride rushing through me, also sent to Jocelyn.

He opened the program and a video that was spoken in English, but translated in French down at the bottom flashed on the screen.

I knew that Jocelyn was the only person on this earth to have full access to the video and anxiety rippled through me. What was so bad that she couldn't tell the entire camp?

"I'm sure that if you are seeing this video, this is a very dire time, needed to recruit someone important," Jocelyn's voice rang through the computer, and I suddenly felt homesick. "Well, this is what's happened over the past thirty years, starting from the beginning."

Images flashed across the screen, people and chimpanzees being strapped down to tables, chemicals being poured down their throats.

A child then flashed on the screen, pinned to a bed with handcuffs, her eyes half hazel with a blue pill in her hand. She was frowning; little tear streaks on her pale face, her brown hair slick with sweat.

The next one was blurry from movement, but a man's hand was cracking across the child's face, holding out a tray of blue pills with the bottoms half white and a tray with orange ones on the other.

The next was not a picture, but a video.

"All right, Jace, this way," Jocelyn's familiar voice was quiet and Jace's blonde head appeared in front of the camera. He was thirteen when this happened. There was a giant gap in the years of pictures, around fifteen years.

"Jocelyn," his quiet voice said, his tone weighed down by sorrow, "this is where they took my dad and me, when he was turned. Why are you taking me here?"

Jocelyn didn't reply as she creaked open a door, and appearing in front of the camera were thousands of decayed and dead bodies, spread across the floor. She gasped, and the camera shook in her hand, the images becoming disoriented.

Footsteps echoed behind the two, and Jace dropped to the ground, and that was the last thing seen.

Jocelyn's face appeared on the screen. "Whoever you are watching this makes your decision. Join, or have your country invaded, and _this will happen._"

The file closed, and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Luke," Falvo said, his voice wavering, "S'il vous plaît, laissez simplement. Je vais avec vous dans un instant - laissez simplement des." **(Please, just leave. I'll get with you in a moment - just leave.)**

I nodded, knowing I needed time to myself as well.

The door opened, and the two guards walked briskly behind me as my mind whirled.

_**Meadow**_

I tried to fight my way through, feeling my insides burn as Alec shoved water down Her throat. She thrashed, even though I tried to restrain Her.

"Meadow," Alec said, and I wanted so badly to respond. "I know you're in there, just come out, we need you."

I felt the voice that tumbled out of my mouth, but weren't my words, with a wave of grief. "No!"

Alec groaned, his eyes showing the amount of stress he was under and I wanted so badly to comfort him, but Genevieve wouldn't let me. His hands restrained mine, but She thrashed.

I felt the insides of me flowing with hot rage – Her rage.

Alec's fingers soothed the back of my hands, rubbing then, his blue eyes determined to free me.

I screamed, and it ripped out of my throat, and Genevieve gave in as I gave labored breaths.

"You good?" he asks, his smile making his eyes twinkle with delight.

But instead of delight, I felt horrid defeat, for Genevieve would always win, no matter what I did. "I'll never be good, Alec."

_**Jace**_

I opened her door, turning on the blinding light; it'd been dark for me the entire night.

Her room was clean, and awfully lavender. The walls were a pinkish purple with cupboards stacked with books. The drawers were filled with clothes, and it was a typical bedroom, with a purple rug, and a white bed with purple sheets. There wasn't a drop of anything on the floor.

A note was scrawled on the dresser. _Check the closet_.

I honestly didn't know what to expect. More dead bodies? I opened it, and the door squeaked on its hinges. Another sticky note was left on the mirror stuck in there. _Look behind the clothes_.

Alec was a good detective, I knew that, but he knew me, so why would he leave so many notes?

I shifted the clothes, feeling knots in my stomach, really hoping there weren't dead bodies.

A door, a tiny little door, one that you must've had to crawl through was stuck in there, off the floor, hidden by the clothes.

It had a lock, but I unlocked it easily with a game card, and it opened to a much larger room. I groaned as the tight little window squeezed me, scraping my stomach.

I dropped to the ground, switching on the small flashlight that was hidden inside one of my many pockets.

Above me was a little light that you could tug that would turn it on, so I did just that, watching as a yellow light blared across the large room.

Tally marks were scattered across the white walls, scrawled on there messily with a marker. I gasped in shock, touching each one of them.

There must've been hundreds of them, little lines, some different colors.

Stacked neatly in a corner, each with a treasured item beside them, were dead bodies.

On that wall, there weren't that many tally marks, but as I counted the bodies, then the tally marks, there was one for each body.

"Oh my God," I murmured, trying to identify each of them.

There were so many papers stacked, and I gathered them to study later, wanting to throw up by the stench that was let off.

I climbed out hastily, running out of the room, my stomach coiled and slowly uncoiled.

I jumped at Alec leaning back on my bed. "Did you see?" he asked, his voice raw. He had rubbed hid face many times, and pulled his hair.

I dropped the papers onto the bed. "Yeah. And smelt."

Alec cracked a small smile before the door creaked open. A red head came into the room, her eyes worried.

"Jace," she murmured, "We have visitors. Bad visitors."

_**Isabelle**_

I was tossed away, landing in the prison cell with a thud, and a white haired boy came in hours later.

"Isabelle Lightwood?" he asked, his voice soft, and he looked up, his eyes a dark brown, almost black, and definitely not hazel.

I didn't reply. I knew from looks that this was Jonathan Morgenstern, but didn't react. I didn't know yet whose side he was on. "Please answer me."

His voice was pleading, and up his long white sleeves that made his skin paler, I saw little marks. Tally marks.

"What is it to you?" I asked, my voice cold and stubborn.

"My life," he replied, looking at me with a pleading curiosity.

"Isabelle Lightwood is I," I responded. "What are those," I indicated towards his wrist and he smiled, pulling back his sleeve.

He studied them with a look of sorrow. "My right arm is how many days I've been away from my girlfriend, and my left is how many I've killed."

My breath caught in my throat, but I didn't yet mark him as enemy. I'd killed many people and addicted as well.

"Why would you count that?" I asked, my voice horrified. "Why would you even want to remember that?"

His eyes studied mine, just as I was doing his. They were a beautiful color, similar to mine, but even more shades darker than mine, and mine were close to black. "It's to honor them. It is the best I can do."

He walked briskly out before turning back, biting his lip. "Do you know a Meadow?"

_**Simon **_

__I paced my room after hearing the news. Isabelle was gone. It was my duty to find her, assigned to me by Alec.

I'd never been on a mission before, obviously. I'd had barely any training, only the training I'd gotten from doing track.

Of course, they wouldn't recognize me as the enemy, but another of them. I slipped the hazel contacts in my eyes, wincing as they collided with my eye, for they were terribly cold.

I blinked at my reflection, I didn't look right, but it didn't matter. This would earn me acceptance to this camp.

I opened a drawer, pulling out a red cloak, slipping it on. _Red for the confined._

I headed out, ignoring the little butterflies that fluttered around in my stomach as I stepped out of the safe haven and into the woods.

My footsteps seemed so loud compared to the rest of the forest - little crickets rubbing their hind legs together, letting out the awful, quiet, squeaky noise.

Mosquitoes bit at me and I slapped at my arms and legs, but it was no use.

I finally came to the exit of the putrid place and left feeling tempted to let out my tongue and stick it at the forest.

I slipped into the county's jail, and many convicted people came to the bars, making attempts to grab my cloak and pull me back.

Jonathan Morgenstern sat at the desk, his sleeves slipping down to reveal the tally marks that everyone wondered what they were about. He looked up and smiled at me, his dark eyes sad. He was always sad, no one to make him feel better.

"Isabelle Lightwood," I said, pulling out a fake ID and flashing it in front of the other boy's face.

He nodded, standing up from the mahogany desk, pulling out a set of keys.

He had a small smirk on his face, licking his lips, and I saw mischief in his young eyes.

We walked down many flights of stairs and I stuck particularly close to him, trying to read his cold emotions.

He opened a steel door, and his eyes widened at the empty cell at the other half of the room.

Words were etched into the smooth wooden walls. _Goodbye Sweethearts. Enjoy your hunt._

I saw a minuscule smile play at the tips of Jonathan's mouth before he turned away, yelling profanities.

Isabelle Lightwood was good.

**Words: 3185**

**Updated on June 20, 2014**

**Pages: 14**

** HEY GUYS! Sorry, it's been a little while. My brother has insisted on having the computer 24/7 (ugh), but better late than never, right? So, I'm working on Chapter 6 right now, literally, but it's going to be a little while before I finish it. There are so many scenes going on at once that I have to write from all of their POV's, but the more scenes the better right? **

** So what do you guys think about Isabelle? Drop a review of what you think happened! **

** REVIEW FOR MEAN GREEN LADIES! **

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** REVIEW FOR THE PRIME MINISTER OF FRANCE!**

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** PEACE TO THE OUT! **

** Toodles!**

** ~Bethanie Dunn~**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Isabelle**_

My lungs stung as I ran. Nothing hurt as bad as sprinting miles while being short of breath. I looked behind me, no one following close to me.

Helicopters were trying to spot me at one o'clock in the morning with bright lights, that I often had to swerve to avoid.

Jonathan had let me out. Valentine Morgenstern's _son let me out. _

My heart was pounding, hitting my chest with pressure that made me want to collapse on the ground and just _breathe_.

I checked the time, 1:48 am; I'd been sprinting for an hour and thirty minutes now.

I coughed, sputtering out rays of spit and blood from where I was hit in my stomach, before collapsing in a heap on the ground in a large valley, my long dress hitting my ankles softly.

I didn't need to cover up; the bitter wind didn't affect the sweat that trickled down my forehead and my overheated body.

I knew the Wanderers had sent backup by now, they'd notice that I wasn't back, for we had a curfew of 12:00, even for spies. They'd search until they came across the police grounds, and I would be missing, and the time the first helicopter came was 12:14.

My eyes slipped closed, even though I knew they shouldn't, and try as I might, I couldn't force them back open.

_"Do you know a Meadow?" he asked, his voice hopeful, and even tinged slightly with remorse._

_ I swallowed, not letting information of my home slip out. If Jonathan knew, he could get my family even more easily. "I know a lot of people," I finally replied. _

_ He slumped to the ground, cradling his head in his hands. Jonathan let out a long groan, bringing his knees closer to his body. As his shirt slipped up, I could see long red gashes running across his back – developed from a whip. _

_ But my focus wasn't on that, it was on the dozens of tiny, jagged tally marks surrounding the scabs, careful not to let any of the touch the scars, but careless enough to be millimeters away. _

_ We were silent, the silence cutting daggers into the air as tension grew without caution. _

_ "Isabelle," he finally said, his voice shattered and broken, but he didn't dare make eye contact. "Please, if you do know her, tell me she's alive. I need to know if _she's alive_." _

_ My hand reached out through the bars tentatively, as I treated him like I would an abused puppy, because that was what he was currently making himself out to be. I stroked his back, pulling down the t-shirt, because I was sure I couldn't stand the tally marks anymore than Jonathan could. "She's alive." _

_ He went still, the trembling in his back ceasing. Jonathan didn't speak, and I felt terror squeeze me, not letting me out of his fearful grip. _

_ Finally, he turned around, his dark brown eyes staring into mine with such intensity, that if he were the sun, and I was a grape, I would be turned into a raisin in an instant. He stood up quietly, pulling out keys, and I backed away, bumping into the stone behind me._

_ "B-but, I told you," my voice trembled. I knew from what Jace had told me, what they would do to you, possibly the same thing that happened to Jonathan. _

_ He pushed hair out of his eyes, unlocking the prison door, his eyes not meeting mine and I felt the result in my racing pulse and the sweat that ran down my back. _

_ "You did," he replied, no emotion in his voice as he grabbed my wrist and it took all my willpower not to scream the most horrible cry I'd ever done. _

_ He pulled me along, and I squeezed my eyes shut even though darkness surrounded me, to the point where I couldn't breathe. _

_ A door swung open and Jonathan muttered something about torturing me with a fellow comrade and I whimpered. _

_ Another door opened and we were brought out to the cold air. We walked for God knows how long, because I sure wasn't counting. Finally Jonathan stopped and cupped my face. _

_ "Isabelle, open your eyes," he told me and I obeyed, cracking them open slowly. "This is Aline Penhallow. I'm taking her in the building, with fake blood of course, so they won't see me come in empty handed. I'll let her go - don't worry. I want you to run as fast as you can and don't you dare stop. Don't look back just _run_."_

_ And so I did. _

"Isabelle!" a voice cried and I cracked open my eyes, shivering. Jonathan and Simon towered over me. "You didn't send her with a blanket? She's turning freaking white, you idiot!"

I looked down, and hissed at the small movement in my neck. Sure enough, my fingers were a light blue and I groaned at the sight.

"She'll be fine," Jonathan said. "Besides, I wasn't expecting her to stop. If she hadn't stopped, she would've been fine."

Simon leaned down, draping his jacket around my shoulders and I hugged the coat close to me, trying to control my shivers.

Jonathan picked me up and I cried out in pain before he hissed, "Shut up, they're close."

"Sorry, you asshole, but I just happen to have frostbite so I can't control what comes out of my mouth," I grumbled.

"Not yet you don't, and you're not going to solve your problems unless you start moving. So, personally, I suggest you run," he growled back.

I sighed, standing up, clenching my teeth together and reminding myself how many bones I had broken in the past and that this was nothing.

I began moving, slowly but surely, getting faster by the second before breaking out in a slow jog by the time fifteen minutes had passed, watching as blood circulated back into my arms.

I was sprinting, not enjoying the hail that was dropping on my head as we ran.

"Woods!" Simon whisper-cried. "C'mon, coverage." We ran faster before dark shadows swarmed us.

Crap.

_**Clary**_

I jolted awake, feeling sweat drip down my face. I had another bad dream.

I grabbed my sketchbook that my mother had generously donated and chewed on the end of a pencil that was already covered with teeth marks.

I sighed after around five minutes, no inspirations coming to me. I knew I couldn't work on an empty mind or an overactive one, I had to be focused.

I sat down at the desk, my fingers tapping rhythmically when I heard it. I tensed at the loud bang. I'd never heard that sound before, so it must've meant trouble.

I waited around another minute before another bang went off, closer than before. I was getting antsy, waiting for something that might not even be there. If I went and got help and nothing was there, what would happen to me?

Two more bangs, much closer and they seemed to be surrounding the camps. Then a scream echoed. How could no one hear this?

My chair scraped the ground in my haste to get up. I ran blindly, through the halls, stopping at the first door that I heard sound in.

I stumbled in through the door, and Alec and Jace sat on a very white bed inside a very clean bedroom, almost so white that it looked like a hospital room if it didn't have dressers.

"Jace," I breathed, trying to make my voice sound calm but failing at. "We have visitors. Bad visitors."

Alec sat up, his face contorted with a mixture of emotions: disbelief, worry, and jealousy. What was he jealous of?

"Are you sure?" Jace asked. I was looking at him closely, not because he was attractive, but because there was something wrong with his appearance that was one hundred percent off. His typically golden skin was a sick pale, almost green. His eyes that were normally so confident and optimistic yet pessimistic at the same time were now full of anguish, pity, and fear.

"I'm pretty sure," I replied, my voice trying to sound confident, but failing as my 'p' stuttered. "There were these loud bangs and the occasional scream in the midst of it. I don't know what they were, just that they sounding _awful_."

Jace and Alec swore at the same time, looking at each other. "All right Clary. We only have a minimal time to prepare for this, so I _need you to listen to me_. There's a cubbyhole in Meadow's closet, and it's unlocked. Now the room itself is generally freaky, so please try to stay in there. Alec, you're protecting Clary, no matter how much you argue. I'm going to see Arabella and make sure no one gets her. You two are _not moving_, because we can't trust Meadow and I need you to protect Clary."

"No!" Alec exclaimed defiantly, his icy blue eyes persistent. "I know how you get at times like this…"

"Shut up Alec," Jace growled. "I said to listen."

Alec's nostrils flared and I was not looking forward to spending however long this was going to last inside of a closet with Mr. Grumpy Pants.

He snatched my wrist stomping away and into a room right next to Jace's. He threw open the closet and pushed clothes aside.

A door, a tiny white door around four feet in diameter was behind all the clothes. Alec opened it, pushing me inside.

The light was on and I screamed at the sight before Alec covered my mouth.

Bodies were stacked neatly, and I saw Meadow's most recent kill at the top of a stack of four.

"Alec," I cried, tears in my eyes hugging him no matter how much he didn't like me. "Get me out of here. Please, just _get me out_."

Alec soothed my hair, his hand hesitant, sitting me down on the ground. I didn't look; I couldn't look, because the sight was too disgusting. I just kept my face buried in Alec's blue t-shirt; sure I was leaving tearstains.

"Clary," Alec murmured. "I'm going to take a look around, and see what those other tally marks are for. You might want to plug your nose because it smells awful, no matter how much air freshener she uses."

I pulled my face off his chest opened my eyes. His smile was tight as he gazed down at me, filled with pity and slight dislike. "I'm going to help."

_**Jace**_

People were stumbling out of cabins, and what just happened kept running through my mind, no matter the situation.

Clary's frighteningly pale face flashed behind my eyelids, as she made no objectives to my suggestions. I wanted so badly to tell her what was on my mind, just in case I died. _I love you, Clary._

An arrow whizzed by my head when I crossed the courtyard and I wielded a knife from my bag, ready to stab anyone who wasn't wearing the leather black gear that we wore for battle.

A body attacked me, and I wrestled on the ground with it, struggling to not get shot or stabbed in the face as I looked into the dull and possessed but beautiful hazel eyes of a woman around the age of twenty-five.

A sword stabbed into her and a thirteen-year-old girl, Jessica, whom I had taught earlier giggled, her brown eyes lighting up. She was an odd one I decided.

I pushed the bleeding body off me, smirking at Jessica before running off, ignoring anyone who tried to shoot me.

The air was foggy from all gunshots, making it hard to breathe in the smoke they left behind, but that didn't matter to me as I raced toward the prison grounds.

I stumbled at the sudden shock I felt go through my ankle, and then the outburst of pain.

I looked down, seeing a bullet protruding from the very skin of my ankle, and as careless as it was, I just yanked it out.

I stood back up, trying so hard to ignore the pain rippling through the lower part of my leg I was trained for this. I limped then toward the prisons, ignoring anyone who got in my path, knowing it was best.

I finally reached the jail, and slammed open the door to see a dirty Arabella, her blonde hair matted to her face and little streaks of cleanness, meaning she had cried recently.

But she wasn't alone.

_**Isabelle**_

"Dogs," Jonathan growled. "They sent freaking dogs."

Simon looked at him as if he were an idiot, and I couldn't help but agree as Simon began speaking, "Jonathan. I don't know if you realize this, but you are _Valentine Morgenstern's son._"

Jonathan shot daggers in a glare at Simon, and I snorted, no matter how frightening this situation at hand was, but once again, I reminded myself that I'd been in worse battles than this.

"Thanks for the update on my genealogy," Jonathan snapped, "but do you really think my father trusted a sixteen-year-old boy to have possession of dogs, not sure where exactly his loyalties lie?"

"Well, who does have possession of the dogs?" I asked, my voice wavering as the dogs began to circle us sniffing the area around our feet.

"My brother, Sebastian," Jonathan sighed. "Father does always seem to have a favoritism towards him. He always followed his orders if they were life."

"Well," Simon said, his back straight, coming even closer to me than before as the dogs began sniffing at his leg, "I'll remember that if he ever does decide to kill me."

Jonathan leaned down sticking his hand out at one of the dogs. I closed my eyes, not looking forward to seeing someone ripped to shreds with those hideous claws those animals had. There was a strange slurping noise and I sucked in a breath.

"Oh my God," I whispered to Simon. "Are they eating him?"

"I don't know, nor do I want to," he replied. "I've never had a pet before. Are they normally this vicious?"

"You still alive down there?" I asked quietly, not wanting the man-eating dog anywhere near me.

"Are all Wanderers this stupid?" Jonathan asked, "Because, seriously, you guys are idiots. The dog is completely friendly, sent to scare us."

I cracked open an eyelid, prepared for anything, maybe even a talking dog.

The dog was licking Jonathan's face. The dog _was licking Jonathan's face._

Simon got down next, his hand trembling and hesitant as he stroked the next dog. It growled and attacked, and I screamed. Simon backed away, quickly.

"Run!" Jonathan roared.

I jumped over the hideous creatures, sprinting away as the dogs were hot on my heels, feeling claws on the back of my dress every now and then, inspiring me to run faster than I ever had before.

The dogs began to slow, and I was beginning to as well, my muscles exhausted and the almost frostbite stage was not helping my situation in the slightest.

"Woods," Simon panted, making a sharp turn and I quickly followed the stumbling boy.

Jonathan was hot on my heels, fending off dogs with a glittering knife, little stars engraved on the handle. I quickly turned back around, coming face to face with a tree.

"They're gone," an unknown voice said. "Morgenstern's still looking, but I'm having my suspicions about that boy. He was the one who took the damn girl out, and is it just me, or did the girl he brought in look a little off to you?"

"I don't know, man, but that's Valentine's son. Careful what you say."

"Dammit," Jonathan whispered. "Slowly and quietly, I want you to move behind that bush."

"C'mon, let's go find the dogs," it was a voice that sounded eerily like Jonathan's, and the previously mentioned boy paled. "My brother's got to be out there somewhere. Forget the girl. She'll die out in this weather anyways, but I _want my brother_."

Three figures moved freakily close to the bush, and I forgot to breathe out of fear.

A boy that looked exactly like Jonathan was smiling, his smile grim and powerful, not reaching his eyes. "Oh, and George? You're dead for what you said about my brother."

We heard a sickening crack and a thud, then we heard Sebastian's footsteps recede into the forest again, "That's some odd brotherly love right there. I seriously hope the feeling is unrequited." Simon said.

_**Alec**_

__My fingers searched the walls, searching for any thing other than tally marks. Clary was counting them murmuring under her breath, "405, 410, 415."

The little redhead was pretty and intelligent, I had to give her that, but that didn't mean I had to like her.

No, like her was the wrong word. I liked her perfectly fine, I was just jealous of her. She got everything, including Jace, and didn't even realize it.

"Alec?" her voice rang through the air, her voice hesitant.

My head snapped up. "Yeah?"

"You don't have to answer the question, I mean it's just my curiosity. I just, wanted to know really, which is what curiosity is…"

"Just ask the damn question, Clary."

She took a deep breath, her face flustered before blurting, "Are you gay?"

I felt my breath catch and my insides squeeze. I could feel the burn of my cheeks.

Clary smiled softy, "It's all right, you don't have to reply, but you know no one's going to judge you unless their cocky assholes. Well, vexatious assholes besides Jace. I don't think he would care either."

I snorted. "You don't know him as well as I do."

She looked up in surprise. "You really think he would judge Alec?"

I shrugged helplessly. "Well, if he knew…"

"Ah, the boy's intelligent, I don't think he'll care that you like him," Clary said. "485…"

My jaw dropped at her nonchalant tone. Of course, she was like Jocelyn and had the tendency to be extremely blunt, but that didn't mean much to the way she said it so _carelessly_.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" My voice had raised an octave, and I was sure my cheeks were so red the next stage would be purple.

"Oh c'mon Alec, it's who you are. Why are you so ashamed?" A new voice asked, manly, and familiar.

Clary waved, a smile warming her face. "Hey Magnus! 530…"

"You knew too?" I exclaimed. "Is it written on my forehead? A sign stuck on my back?"

"A gay man knows a gay man," Magnus replied, and my eyes widened. "Oh, really Alec, I wear neon colors, did you think I was straight."

"Well no…"

"575, 580, 585… Magnus is right," Clary murmured, her eyebrow furrowed. "I'm not sure if I counted this set yet…"

I looked Magnus over as I had done many times and Magnus smirked like Jace typically does. "Yes, yes, I'm very flamboyant, I know."

I blushed, and watched his very attractive smirk grow wider.

"Alec," Clary's voice was confused, "how long has Meadow been here? These tallies over here are fading, and not very recent."

"I don't know, four years maybe?" I replied, still halfway focused on the sparkly boy.

"Hm," she murmured, "something here is missing."

"Hey blue eyes," Magnus asked, leaning closer. "How about when this is all over, you and I go grab something to eat?"

Clary snorted. "No meaning to intrude, but there aren't exactly any restaurants in America."

"Shut up, Flames," Magnus snapped. "We will go and eat if I say we go and eat."

Clary giggled and I cocked an eyebrow. "So I don't have a choice in this matter?"

"No," Magnus replied, his voice like honey. _He really was attractive._

"How about 4:45 on Thursday?" Magnus asked, sitting down on the disgusting floor.

I shrugged. "Whatever."

Clary was snorting of laughter, while keeping her finger on a set of tally marks. "655…660…665…"

"It's a date," Magnus grinned brilliantly in the dim light.

_**Jace**_

The fact that his hair was bleached blonde was the first thing I noticed as he worked at picking Arabella's very complicated lock as if he were squashing an ant.

"Pesky little thing," Arabella said. "Bobby pins don't work on it, Master Valentine."

My breath caught, and even that caught the man's attention. He turned around his gaze cutting into me.

"Ah, you're one of the troublemakers hmm? Oh, one of the ones my little daughter has gotten very close to as well," he said, his piercing black eyed gaze searing into me. I glared at him.

"And you're the one that ruined America," I retorted. "Glad we're on social standards here. What would I do if I didn't know?"

Valentine's nose wrinkled and I snorted. "Sarcasm isn't good for the soul."

"Ah, and neither is destroying the world. Guess we'll both have to work on that huh?"

"Ugh, men," Arabella muttered. "You two are being ridiculous. Just kill each other already! And grab me some popcorn. You can't watch someone die without popcorn, it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth."

"Not unless you eat them," a new voice said behind me, and I smiled at Jocelyn's lovely entrance. "Though, knowing you, it wouldn't be that surprising if you _did_ eat them. Long time no see, Morgenstern."

Valentine smiled, the grin not quite reaching his soulless eyes. "You do know we never got a divorce, correct, and therefore you are a Morgenstern too?"

"You do know that you supposedly died, right?" Jocelyn asked, throwing her hair back casually in a ponytail. "That automatically makes me a widow. Not very nice of you."

"Somebody get the girl some damn popcorn!" Arabella muttered. "What are you lot, sexist?"

Jocelyn pulled a clip out of her hair, letting out the protruding part of the barrette, sharpened to the point of a dagger. She blew on it once before narrowing her eyes, throwing it at the girl rattling the bars; hitting her in the knee and making it stick there.

Arabella cried out, clutching her kneecap, wheezing. "I never liked you," she snarled.

"The feeling is requited," Jocelyn replied easily, pulling another dagger out of her boots. They were high heeled, and I knew that if you pressed a button on the wristwatch she wore, a knife would come out, making way for an easy kick. CIA had nothing on Jocelyn Garroway.

"You kept the boots," Valentine said in awe, and I was surprised at even the slightest emotion on his face.

"No need for a good weapon to go to waste," Jocelyn replied, but not making eye contact with anyone but the floor.

Valentine nodded solemnly and I could've sworn I'd seen just a hint of pain behind his eyes, hidden in the deepest parts of his mind, and somewhere in him I knew he must've been slightly human. "Of course, if I were you I would've kept a three million dollar purchase as well."

Just slightly human that is.

_**Luke**_

I felt my nerves jumbled up as I flew back to the Wanderers camp in Falvo's private jet. I was going over the phone call that had just been made hours before.

_"Luke!" Jocelyn's voice was panicked, and I felt anxiety in the pit of my stomach. _

_ "What's wrong, Jocelyn?" I asked, my tone suddenly formal. _

_ She stuttered the next part, and I heard loud bangs over the static. "They found us, Luke, oh my God they found us. Valentine is with them. I haven't seen him yet, but I just know he's out there."_

_ My breath caught in the middle of my next sentence. I knew the Prime Minister was just now accepted, would he go into war so suddenly? _

_ "Okay, I got some recruits from France. We won't be able to make it as soon as you would like, though," I replied, my voice uneasy. _

_ "Just try, all right? I've got to go. Jace is trying to get to the prisons – shit he just got shot!"_

_ The phone disconnected. _

_ I opened the door, suspense creeping into my heart. _

_ "Êtes-vous d'accord Lucian?" Falvo asked __**(Are you all right Lucian?)**_

___"Non, il s'agit d'une bataille à notre camp. Valentine nous a trouvé," I replied __**(No there is a battle at the camp. Valentine has found us.)**_

___Falvo smiled, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree. __"Ensuite, nous allons envoyer de nombreux soldats. __Allons-y!" __**(Then we shall send many soldiers. Let's go!")**_

I shook myself awake from the daydream as Falvo smiled at me across the plane. "Why don't you go to sleep Lucian? It's been a long night…"

And just like that, as if he commanded me, my eyes slipped closed and I slipped into the dark tunnel we call sleep.

** Yes, yes, go ahead and brutally murder me for all the slight cliffhangers I left for all of the point of views except for possibly Luke. **

** Yeah, so I won't be able to update for about a week, but I promise a super duper long chapter whenever I get back because I'm just that amazing. **

** HAVE A FUN WEEK WITH CLIFFHANGERS! They're very nice and friendly, never wanting to kill you. (Except put you through torture. But that's a natural feeling.) **

** TOODLES!**  
**Words: 4167**

** Pages: 17**

** Updated: June 25, 2014**

** Disclaimer: All characters except for Arabella, Meadow, Falvo, and some other minor characters as well as the Mortal Instrument belong to Cassandra Clare. I, however, own the plot of this story. **

**Beta Edited by: HopelessRomantic1599**

**BLAH! **


	7. Chapter 7

**MY USERNAME IS SOON TO BE CHOCOLATE TURTLES67**

_Sebastian-_

I laughed as a woman on an order sliced off George's head, but then another part of me told me to feel guilty, because he was just using his freedoms.

I went with the previous.

George's friend, Lance, was quivering as I turned to him. Lance had unusual eyes, due to him not being under the influence of the pills. His eyes were a lemon-lime color, which I also knew his mother's used to be like before she committed suicide – faulty pill, that's all.

Most people thought me cruel, and I was, but there was a definite reason for that.

My brother, as much as I loved him, got _everything_. He got the girl, he got the car, he got _Egypt_, and he had my father's favoritism. What did I get - a bunch of stupid dogs that couldn't even sniff out a girl's tracks?  
I gritted my teeth in anger, damning Jonathan to hell, before instructing Lance to clean up the mess whom quickly nodded.

I began walking back out into the cold, nothing on but a thin long sleeved t-shirt – I had privileges like that.

I'd always liked the cold for it reminded me of father's and mine cold hearts that sat practically unmoving in our chests. Jonathan had his heart, and it was moving quickly. He was always so hesitant to kill people, which I didn't understand. I knew of the tally marks that littered his back.

I creaked open the door to my home, but knew that Father had gone to fight the Wanderers, and I wouldn't be allowed to fight with them. Such a shame, war was beautiful.

I walked into my room, the room Father left unscathed because I left his vacant as well.

All over my walls were pictures of a girl I'd been obsessed with for years. Her name was Clarissa Fray. Recently, she'd been discovered as a Wanderer, but I couldn't care less.

I slumped down on the bed, looking at a picture of the girl at the day of the ceremony.

They always took official pictures like you would a mug shot, with no emotion. Clarissa had all the emotion in the world in those pearly green eyes of hers.

They were good emotions – sadness and loneliness. It made her eyes sparkle, and a small frown appear on her lips. I would make her happy.

I suppose she wasn't lonely anymore, not in the presence of the Wanderers, but she probably wasn't joyful.

I'd watched her stumble down the streets, the long dresses she wore not fit for her clumsiness. Clarissa's dresses weren't as beautiful as the other girls, they were always beat down and worn too often. I always thought that if she did wear beautiful dresses, just walking down the street would make people pass out of shock from her beauty.

I wanted to find my girl, and fight for her happiness. I had to.

I slid off the bed and walked over to the chest at the opposing end of the room, lifting up the polished lid.

I picked up my knife, ran my fingers down the smooth part of it before smiling at the engraving. _Morgenstern._

My brother hadn't ever had a blade like this, so pure and silver. His were always so pitifully normal.

This blade had never pierced any skin, had never drawn any blood. It was the only one of my collection that hadn't been sanctified in blood.

It was time to change that.

I slid it into my holder in my belt, sheathing the beauty from the entire country before loading myself with guns and a bow with a dozen arrows.

My father couldn't stop me if no one was here.

_(__**A/N: MY USERNAME IS SOON TO BE CHOCOLATETURTLES67)**_

_Magnus_

I watched, amused, as Clary tried to detect what all the tally marks meant. She was murmuring numbers as if she were insane, though she was only one pill dose away from that, but I knew that her goal was to distract herself from the stacks of bodies.

"God, this place needs some air freshener," I muttered, pressing my fingers into the right wall, while Alec did the left side.

A hatch burst out at my touch, and I jumped backwards, startled. There was a black hole that I could see descended for a while.

"Oh my God," Alec said, his tone one of disbelief. "Clary, hurry up please."

"Shut up Alec," she replied. "I'm at 1,325."

I laughed and she glared at me. "Clary, dear, there are 1,516."

She whirled around, her nose scrunching up in anger. "I spent two damn hours counting those, and you just now tell me that?"

Alec sighed, climbing into the hole first, while holding onto a handle that was on the other side of the hatch. He began descending on a ladder of some sort.

Clary glared at me one last time before getting on the ladder herself.

"Wusses," I muttered, before jumping over them, laughing with glee as I whirled through the air as Clary screamed at me words of dishonor and disbelief.

I felt myself plunge into the water that knew was down there and felt myself sinking quickly. My arms flailed until I submerged.

I'd smelt the seawater before I jumped.

"Clary?" Alec shouted. "The ladder stops. Ouch, no, don't step on my face!"

I chuckled as I got out of the water before frowning at my appearance. I was positive that all my make up was washed off and the fact that my clothes were completely drenched made me sigh. Isabelle made these for my birthday.

"Magnus, is it safe for us to jump?" Clary shouted. I smirked, not replying. "Well, screw you too!"

Her screams sounded through the air as she jumped off and landed directly in the pool of salt water.

Alec whirled through the air and splashed into the water, and they both submerged at the same time, coughing and sputtering. Alec pulled himself up and grabbed Clary's hand, pulling her out.

"I hate you," she muttered, shoving past me.

I rolled my eyes, continuing forward until a door appeared in front of our faces.

Alec almost pushed it open before I held up a hand, waving my other in front of a scanner.

"_Magnus Bane,"_ said a speaker, _"Wanderers are not welcome here. Warning. Warning. Warning." _

I rolled my eyes, pushing open the door into a room full of scientists.

"Wanderers are most definitely not welcome here," I murmured as they all turned at once. "So why does Meadow have access?"

_Jace_

Jocelyn kicked out screaming words of hatred, words so awful that I wouldn't ever dare try to remember them.

Valentine kicked his foot out, and I knew – _I knew_ – she was dead.

"_No!_" I screamed as something plunged into her heart. Her face went pale before she slumped forward onto the ground.

She was my mother that I never had. She took me in without any hesitation, and always called me her little inspiration.

I screamed. It was a sound I'd never made before, a sound I didn't even make when I saw my father die. A sound I didn't want to hear again, because it sounded too heartbroken to be true. A sound that I wouldn't make again, because it burned my throat. You didn't know a scream until you heard that one.

Valentine looked mortified and Arabella held her ears with a grimace, slowly stepping out of the cage she had somehow gotten open.

"It's a tranquilizer dart," Valentine said through gritted teeth. "And you owe me a hearing aid."

And that's when he kicked out at me.

_Isabelle_

We trudged through the woods, all shivering. My throat was parched.

A drop of hail landed on my head and I sighed, wishing it could at least be something like snow. If I was going to get wet, it could at least be something that wouldn't give me a concussion.

Jonathan hadn't said anything since the incident, and because of this, neither had Simon or I.

It made me more unsure of where Jonathan's loyalties lied. His father was Valentine Morgenstern – so was Clary's, but Jonathan was actually raised by him – he practically led us to where Sebastian was, and he gave orders to his little officers to go capture the boy and me.

Simon and I began exchanging awkward glances, asking each other what we were going to do. So far, by the look on Simon's face, we hadn't come up with an answer yet.

"Would you stop doing that already?" Jonathan growled and Simon jumped five feet up in the air. "I would've killed you if I intended to, which_ I don't_."

Simon furrowed his eyebrows. "What exactly were we doing?" he asked.

I smirked as Jonathan's hand hit his face and slowly slid down, making his face distorted.

_Bang_.

I jumped in the air, looking around for the sight of a gun or anything that could've made that noise.

Jonathan and Simon slid a gun out of their pockets, and Simon tossed one to me. I caught the revolver, frowning at the slight rust on the sides.

"Alec wouldn't let me take real weapons so I was stuck with pistols," Simon sighed at my face.

"Shut up!" Jonathan hissed. "If anyone's close, they would've heard your loud mouth blabbering about punishment from a boy the same age as you!"

I rolled my eyes as Simon's cheeks flushed.

We slowly walked backwards while Simon faced the front. It was quite the unspoken strategy for people who didn't know each other.

_Boom._

Jonathan tensed, turning around. "That, my friends, was a grenade. Something's under attack and it's not us."

We turned around at the same time and began sprinting towards the noises, as if it were something important to us. Simon barely tripped over any roots, which was amazing grace for someone so new to our camp. We were normally clumsy from not being taught how to be graceful because everyone was on pills.

A gun cocked behind us. "Well hello my dear traitor. I can't say you're my brother anymore, now can I?"

_Meadow-_

_My love,_

_ I feel accomplished today, and it is about something I should probably not feel accomplished about, but I do because it means I am coming closer to sanity. _

_ Today, when I went insane, I didn't kill anyone, and God, if you have read my previous letters, you would know, so awfully know, that the people I kill are so painfully dead, and not deserving of the treatment I give them. All they did was anger me, which is so easily done. _

_ So, my love, I haven't talked to you in lifetimes. These letters aren't even sent because I'm not allowed outside of the camp. I wish I could send them, that way I could know your reaction whenever you see the crisp white paper on your desk. _

_ I am sure you would write me in return and make me feel all right through all that I've been through. _

_ There is war raging outside of my window, and yet I sit here with a piece of paper on my desk and a pen in my right hand because there is nothing that I would rather do if not speak to you, even though you won't reply. _

_ My love, I haven't admitted it to myself yet, so I'll admit it to the tree in which I write on. I don't know if you're alive. It cuts me, and practically makes me clutch my heart, but I have to be honest to myself to say that I honestly don't know that you are alive. _

_ If you aren't, I don't know what I would do, honestly. I wouldn't commit suicide, because you would stare at me in the heavens with the wrath of an angel on your face. You would say that I could move on because I was strong. But I'm not, my love, because I kill people for the satisfaction of power. And as you would say, it isn't me; I would know that you would be disappointed somewhere in you because I am stronger than to succumb to sin. _

_ So as the grenades go off around me, I will go to my hiding spot that I suppose I am too afraid to admit to myself where it leads. So I won't tell you either, but I will tell you that it is miles closer to where you are, or where you would be. _

_ So if you are alive, my love, know that I still love you and always will, alive or dead. _

_ With all my love,_

_ Meadow_

I sighed, opening the closet and the hatch to see that the light was already on. I had a clothespin hung on my nose, a can of homemade air freshener in one hand and the letter in the other.

I stumbled backwards at the sight before me. The light was on, casting a pale yellow over the entire room. Fear clutched me. Someone saw how many people I killed.

Someone saw my deepest secrets; ones that I didn't even dare tell my love.

Someone might have seen my letters.

That moved me and I jumped in the room rushing over to the other side of room.

"No!" I shrieked, seeing all the papers missing. I slipped onto the ground, holding my head, sobs of pain and despair ripping through my body. "No…"

I set the fresh letter down, ignoring the smell, determined to find my little scientist friends.

That hatch was open too.

I felt bile come up my throat. I was such a stupid, ignorant girl.

I gripped the sides of the metal ladder before giving in and just jumping into what used to be a sewer before they decided to put water in the pills.

I landed in the salt water that had been unfiltered from the shut down and walked through the tunnels.

_"Alice Jones_," said the speaker_, "You are welcome. Enter."_

The computer always seemed to mix up my name with that Alice girl but I'd learned to ignore it.

The doors slid open and the sight I saw before me made me stop in my tracks.

They found my little secret.

_Four days later_

_Luke_

I woke up, feeling completely refreshed before taking in my odd surroundings. I was lying on a cold floor, my neck sore, and a massive headache.

Probably not the freakiest part yet.

Around me were little vertical bars, leading to a metal ceiling.

It was two feet tall.

Of course, I didn't realize that until I banged my head on the ceiling, sending little rockets of pain in my head.

"Ah hello Lucian," said the familiar voice, but a completely not familiar accent. It wasn't French anymore, it was a British accent. "Would you like to move cages? That can't _possibly_ be comfortable. "Valentine can go overboard sometimes, I know."

I choked. "_What?" _

"Hmm, they don't train you well at your little camp do they?" he asked, his voice slightly raising an octave. It was a soothing tone, I had to admit, but so was Valentine's, and I wasn't falling for it again. "I mean, I'm sure Jocelyn would've picked it up eventually. Valentine himself trained her, as I'm sure the little cheating bitch told you. Actually, I'm sure she wouldn't. She's always been one for secrets.

"You should've picked it up by the way I immediately agreed after I saw our dear Jocelyn's face. There are many camps out there plotting to take Valentine down. Not many have succeeded, as I'm sure you could figure out. I'd never heard of the Wanderers but even so, I immediately contacted Valentine. And then the stupid Jocelyn showed her face on that video, and I instantly knew. So I put you on the plane, put some drugs in your water, and you passed out. Simple."

"Why do the bad guys always tell their life story before killing the victims? It's quite a nuisance. I mean, you did it with me, and now you're doing it with him." My head snapped up in the cramped space, making it bang once again but I ignored the pain for the time being.

The voice was arrogant and sarcastic. It took me quite a long time to get used to it, but I'd realized eventually that they were just walls he'd thrown up.

Jace Herondale stood at the opposite end of the room, an eyebrow cocked and a mischievous smile on his lips.

_Three days before_

_Arabella_

The prison doors shut with a loud clang as the guards left me alone.

The prison wasn't dirty at all, and I wondered if they had primed it to top conditions for me.

It even had a heating system, which I was grateful for, because they had stripped me of all my clothes besides a pair of shorts and a tank top.

I saw a door, in which I knew was unlocked. Jocelyn had told me that I basically had a house, but beyond that was an actual cage that the house led to so I could get food and visiting hours.

Why would she do so much for her prisoners?

I went inside, not even daring to look for something glass, because I knew they wouldn't do that. Everything was plastic.

I entered the room and was shocked to see that the bed was actually made out of wood.

I flopped down on the silky bed kicking my legs up in the air. There was no source of electronics, only books.

The room had no windows, in which was extremely understandable.

The door flew open and a girl with blonde hair and brown eyes gasped and squealed, bouncing up and down.

"Oh my gosh! You have no idea how _long_ I've waited for someone to talk to! The guards don't even say a freaking word whenever you say hello!" the girl said. "I got thrown in here for murder, which was totally not my fault."

I quirked an eyebrow up, watching the blonde with a vague interest. So this was Jocelyn's idea of imprisonment, in which I completely agreed with.

I picked up a book, flipping open a book. I wasn't really reading, I just wanted her to leave so I could send a little message to Valentine through my kickass earrings. I'll explain later.

"Fine then. Be that way, I'm sure this next part will interest you. I'm Meadow," she said. "And I was thrown in here for being insane."

**Words: 3,086**

**HELLO AGAIN MY LITTLE CUPCAKES!**

**Yes, I know, I know, a month. A FREAKING MONTH. **

** All right, I know you're not up for my pathetic excuses but I'm going to give them to you anyways. I went to Roundrock Texas for a week, in order to visit my aunt and celebrate my grandfather 72****nd**** birthday. **

** Then…I downloaded World of Warcraft. Yeah. Video Games will kill an author. And come on, it's World of Warcraft. **

** Now, there are other reasons too, which I'm not going to explain, because they're kind of a personal thing, and let's face it. I don't know you because of your reviews. **

** So, I'm changing my username pretty soon (it's going to be ChocolateTurtles67) but it's going to be a couple weeks so I can let everyone know. **

** YO PEOPLE I AM CHANGING MY USERNAME. SEE ABOVE. **

** Now, I have started working on Chapter 8, and I'm about halfway through it, and it probably won't be updated for a couple of days, and at most a week, because I want to work on my other story **_**We'll always have time for each other**_** because that hasn't been updated in over a month. **

** Yeah, writer's block.**

** I'll see you soon!**

**~Bethanie Dunn (soon to be know as CHOCOLATETURTLES67)**

TOODLES!


	8. Chapter 8

** VERYYYYYYY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE!**

** IIIIIMPORTANT!**

**Okay, so this is totally not an update, but asking for a favor.**

** I've been working on an original story called **_**The Searching**_** and I want some people to edit it for me. **

** Here are the requirements: **

**1: You must have at least an education up to the 8****th**** grade. **

**2: You must have an email.**

**3: You must have a Google Drive.**

**4: You must PM me if you want to edit and in the PM will consist of your name (it doesn't have to be your actual name), your level of education, your age, your email, and a glimpse of your own writing – FanFiction or original. **

**5: The deadline for this is Wednesday, July 30, 2014**

** Yeah, that's the requirements, and here's I'm going to have the little thing go. **

** 1: This group can have an unlimited amount of people**

** 2: This will all be on Google Drive**

** 3: We will be able to see each other's edits, and I can revert back to the original, and see what each person has done. **

** 4: I'm going to put it on there on Saturdays and Sundays that way not so many people will have work etc. **

** 5: It will probably not be every Saturday/ Sunday due to my own schooling. **

** Here's a segment of what you will be editing. **

_Bang, bang, bang! _

Sister Olivia opened the door, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why must you do all that racket? There are sleeping children in this house!"

The woman at the door rolled her eyes. "CIA agent, Arabella Forge. You are harboring a client of ours and we would like to speak to her."

I felt bile rise up my throat. I hadn't realized this case went all the way up to the CIA.

Sister Cecilia looked at the woman with utter calmness, like the eye of a storm. Of course, there wasn't a storm in her, but a hurricane rising up in me.

"I don't exactly know who you are talking about Ms. Forge," Sister replied, "and therefore I cannot let you speak to her."

The woman at the door grunted with impatience. "She's fourteen, brownish blonde hair with blue eyes. Lillian Harris."

Sister Cecilia looked surprised before looking backwards, as if she were making sure no one else was looking. I was grateful for the coverage of the wall I was hiding behind.

"Miss Harris is not emotionally fixed for this, and you should know this Ms. Forge. No one who has watched their mother die is okay," Sister said quietly and I felt anger boiling up inside of me.

Lance grabbed my arm, restraining me from smacking Sister in the face.

"Patience, Lillie," Lance murmured, his voice so quiet that I was surprised when I saw the agent's eyes narrow.

She rudely shoved Sister to the side, her boots that should've been loud making no sound as they crossed the wooden floor briskly.

**All right, so just let me know if you want to and I will be grateful. **


End file.
